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Song title:
C.w. Mccall - Comin' Back For More
Edit By:
216.73.216.52
way up in the snow Where the scrub oaks grow And the coneys and the picas play Where the marmots abound All a-diggin in the ground And the wind blows cold all day Theres a little pile a stones On a little pile a bones Thats a-what the archaeologists say But the folks in lake city Well, they sing a different ditty It would like to make your hair turn gray Now, its kinda hard to find But itll altercate your mind If you happen to go the right way You take slumgullion pass And dont stop for no gas Until you get yourself to als caf It was the genuine, original Highly pathological Finger-lickin digital caf It was al packers legendary Coronary fast-food Cannibal bar and buffet Some dark night You gonna see a weird light Up on cannibal plateau, they say Its a scrub oak fire Like a funeral pyre Old packers been a-cookin all day A-when the coyotes howl And the cougars on the prowl They aint lookin for your customary prey Nah, theyre waitin for bones In a pile a hot stones At old al packers caf [chorus] Comin back for more Comin back for more Baby, comin back for more Als cafe Comin back for more Comin back for more Baby, comin back for more (old al packer Was a real bone-cracker Got lost in a blizzard one day ) When the boys went to get im Old al just et em And he buried all the bones in the clay Now you know them fellas Wasnt toasted marshmellas And they didnt fall asleep in the hay But it had been a hard winter So he had em all for dinner And they didnt find their boots until may Well, the folks in lake city Showed very little pity So they sentenced him to hang next day But before they could noose im Old al got loose an Hes a-lookin for you, today Boohoohaha [courtesy of chip davis.] [chorus] Comin back for more Comin back for more Baby, comin back for more Als cafe Comin back for more Comin back for more Baby, comin back for more (now way up in the snow Where the scrub oaks grow And the coneys and the picas play ) Where the marmots abound All a-diggin in the ground And the wind blows cold all day Theres a little pile a stones On a little pile a bones Thats a-what the archaeologists say But the folks in lake city Well, they sing a different ditty It would like to make your hair turn gray Now, its kinda hard to find But itll altercate your mind If you happen to go the right way You take slumgullion pass And dont stop for no gas Until you get yourself to als caf It was the genuine, original Highly pathological Finger-lickin digital caf It was al packers legendary Culinary fast-food Cannibal bar and buffet Some dark night Youre gonna see a weird light Up on cannibal plateau, they say boohoohaha [chip again.] Its a scrub oak fire Like a funeral pyre Old packers been a-cookin all day And when the coyotes howl And the cougars on the prowl They aint lookin for your customary prey aahoohoohoohoo [yeah, its chip.] Nah, theyre waitin for bones In a pile a hot stones At old al packers cafe bleah! [could it be... davis? ]
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