Well,
I've had the ***** and mothers ruin and now I'm brewing some real,
that's the origin of the Oregan trail, drink until you fail to supply the necessities,

I got riled by the miles we had travelled
fed by the arch of the plains and their arrows,
I should have stayed put in Drygulch
alone with the shadows
should have stuck to the road that I knew.

She,
oh and wasn't she so purty
I was stuck on her
like molasses to a honey tree
I wanted
and she pretended she couldn't
see
that she was in fact
the necessity.