I'm Riley the Rattler, but who really cares Stuck in the desert eating toads and hares Enduring the dryness and all that heat Crawling over rocks until I'm beat Spending the nights just trying to be cool I'm rejected in love, man, I feel like a fool
I'm telling you it's tough to wear these scales Have two buck teeth and rattles on your tail Nobody likes me - even the other snakes hide While I slither around and rattle my pride
The only thing going for me are my ferocious eyes I can stare down a mouse until it cries So what's the big deal? It takes a mouse a day Just to keep the doctor away
The days are sweltering and the nights are cold The hunters are merciless, the coyote's too bold I haven't bitten a good human in weeks All that show up are a bunch of geeks
They stole my name and put it on a stadium They stole my rattle and named it Palladium They swiped my scales and fashioned a purse How would you feel with that wretched curse?
You know the whole thing about this whole affair Is that I have to go through life without any hair I have a tongue so long it gets caught in the weeds When it gets too sore I can't chew seeds
I suppose you think squirting venom in an artform I'll let you in on a secret, bud, it just gives me heartburn The weekends are the worst with the trail-ridin' honkies Tearing up the earth with their horses and donkeys
There once was a time when I could lay on a rock Take in the sun without watching the clock Now all I do is hide in some hole And breathe in the gas fumes and look for a mole
It's a disgusting life for the chief of all snakes I don't get no respect from all those flakes In years gone by I was king of the road Just one coil would scare the warts off a toad
Guess there's no sense in complaining about things as they are I'm just lucky I haven't been hit by a car Just thinking of traffic can give me a chill One false move and I'll end up road kill
A guy on TV gets 4 mill for being a Diamondback If I get caught I'm stuffed in a sack Thrown in a trunk with smelly cactus And later dumped out to become target practice
I'm Riley the Rattler, but who gives a hoot They spend hours looking for me, just to shoot I'd give my left rattle to trap one gun And bite him a good one right on the bun
I'm Riley the Rattler and I'm bad to the core I gotta change my look, you know, like Al Gore
Say baby, let's slither up the knoll Coil around a toadstool and shake, rattle, and roll
Yeah baby....
Compositores: Philip T Keaggy, David Keaggy ECAD: Obra #29510656