That trendy backwoods stomp
Your snake is spitting
and drowning in the rain

From on top my altar
I am the one you want
Like a peasant
In the city square

That trendy backwoods stomp
That spiteful sideways glare

Your snake is spitting
and drowning in the rain

Give the men treats for labor
Give the women something else
It will never be fair so long as they stare

That trendy backwoods stomp