The gavel galavants on the verdict of the swine that was fed human remains It was a murderer's victims somewhere north of the Canadian border They ended up in your lunch break in which "You may want to hold your breath till the dream sequence is for this one" New rural ruins or street fed for postmodern pigeons These pigs were fed, these pigs were ready to be sold Once had but now widowed, his companion had a chance to pop one out before her body gave in A bouncing baby gal, beautiful in posture She grew up with the cows till the cows left town Daddy brought home the bacon The bacon was in the backyard, baby Daddy left the ranch cause daddy had a sharp hand Though fingers cracked from stress and cold, daddy fed the herd grain Then draunk as much of the same These pigs were fed These pigs were ready to be sold Take your pigs hoof and follow it to the city Take this chance and go to the city Daddy's baby girl Daddy's little wanderer Let's go out and get jobs Let's go out and be all grown up The city is hiding underneath your bed The monster in your closet is eight weeks away You've got to saddle up now Daddy's baby girl is all grown up Precious But you will not be there when she coughs up your family line You will be the furthest thing from her mind A grey ghost A black cowboy will be the last reflection I will not be there, not yet I'm running out of time I'm sorry I forgot It's not my fault Greetings from the great north woods