16 Shells From a Thirty-Ought Six
Tom Waits Lyrics


Plugged sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
And the Black Crow snuck through a hole in the sky
So I spent all my buttons on an old pack mule
And I made me a ladder from a pawnshop marimba
And I leaned up against a dandelion tree
Leaned up against a dandelion tree
Leaned up against a dandelion tree

I'm gonna cook them feathers on a tiny spit
And I filled me a sachel full of old pig corn
And I beat me a billy from an old French horn
And I kicked that mule to the top of the tree
Kicked that mule to the top of the tree
Blew me a hole 'bout the size of a kickdrum
And I cut me a switch from a long branch elbow

I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six

Well, I slept in the holler of a dry creek bed
And I tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
Tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three
Well, you got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone tree
With the strings of a Washburn stretched like a clothesline
Oh, you know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole
Me and that mule scrambled right through the hole

I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six

Now I hold him prisoner in a Washburn jail
That I strapped on the back of my old kick mule
Strapped him on the back of my old kick mule
Bang on the strings just to drive him crazy
Oh, I strum it loud to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cage

Oh, I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: Thomas A. Waits

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Most interesting comments from YouTube:

The Hoff

I plugged 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
And a black crow snuck through
A hole in the sky
So I spent all my buttons on an
Old pack mule
And I made me a ladder from
A pawn shop marimba
And I leaned it up against
A dandelion treeAnd I filled me a satchel
Full of old pig corn
And I beat me a billy
From an old French horn
And I kicked that mule
To the top of the tree
And I blew me a hole
'Bout the size of a kick drum
And I cut me a switch
From a long branch elbowI'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-sixWell I slept in the holler
Of a dry creek bed
And I tore out the buckets
From a red Corvette, tore out the buckets from a red Corvette



RaVen DaWn

Lotsa chat below to prove we know our A&O... so many men, I respect them, their platoons, real risk, I get to go in alone, my brother, as well, we are specialists and for all that damn gun talk, you all got no idea, what a man can do with just what's around him, yes, whittle you down to toothpicks. I hunt with only a blade. Been used by my Uncle Sam, been deep UC in Death Row too, so what is there left to prove and who really cares, when everyone wants to be admired for this type of shit, I love tom, grew up with him, and y'all get stuck on the guns well, that'd be shameful to miss his point... then again, who says may not know, who knows may not say. They sent me into the hot zones, SE Asia, '03 Indonesia... I could go on. I saw that we have some real experts here about all that. What's good about the Service is you get a huge and heavy duty family; what's good about being alone on Assignment, my task depends on me. I'm not a killer by choice, not a killer by noise, no not a killer at all, despite the tally, I am now a man of peace and I go to get the Accords... by pen or by sword. I never fail. My own will come get me, yet there would not be time. No. I am the only one left of the many I trained with. Hey y'all with the rifle and the facts- I really liked that, learn something more than the songs explore, so I give you something back, and hope is a place you never been and you never go.
Aw shucks, I'm just woods folk, what do I know. 30+ countries, 25 conflicts, and I expect a world of peace. My blade never misses, not a K-Bar, not a Ginzu, just a homemade piece of hard cold death, and I use it for camping. Ya' gotta bury stuff or the Beast comes round. From Secaucus to Cat Bah, ahh what a beautiful world. I have a mean-ass hound, growls and bites, named him Chad, yet he only answers to "attack"... surreal, we write what we know, so that makes us all the same. Every good man or woman had to take that shot, it was all of us... nobody gets a pass. Lock and load, if'n you must. Hah! Rust never does sleep, does it...
"The Devil's Mask"
Land mines in the sunshine,
Jump spry spy, …or just die!
This word, we call it peace,
Yet itself, it is the beast,
So often tested by god and the devil.
They trade appearance and see who will follow.
Yes, god and the devil trade places
And see who will follow.

"Another Shot of Gun Grease"
Four mags empty and to the nearest town I go,
The boys at the checkpoints, they all know
To live another day, look the other way.
I’m coming through.
There’s a bar over by the burning police car,
A place to go do as I please.
Bartender, bartender,
Make it a double.
I’ll have another shot of gun grease.

Hey! You there, in the churches,
Get the fuck UP off your knees!
Time to please the almighty appetite
With a bigger body count.
Wrath and wraith, have thou faith-
Yes, he plays the numbers, checks the dailies…

Your prayers are delivered,
and your agony, he sees.
I’ll have another shot of gun grease.
Gun grease, please; …. gun grease

~s’all against the wall~
….by RaVen DaWn….



All comments from YouTube:

Bert Lee

that high pinging sound is tom hitting a boiler with a wrench... they toured with a damned boiler! The guitarist awsome! Marc Ribot...

Henri S

I always tour with a boiler... also with a little white fridge, a standing grandma's clock, wet sellery and a small white dog called Woody and a basket in the shape of a horse...

Tim Sørensen

Poets, use crude tools...when needed ^_º

Mark Vickroy

Wasn't Tom hitting it though

Bungle Dance

That's an m1 garand ping

Alonda Thomas

Lee:
Sounds like he's hitting a pot and a pan----love this song regardless of they'e beating on for the drums, lol.

11 More Replies...

Maxim Popov

It's just a gigantic version of the madness that grows in every one of our brains. We are monkeys with money and guns. ~ Tom Waits.

The Hoff

I plugged 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
And a black crow snuck through
A hole in the sky
So I spent all my buttons on an
Old pack mule
And I made me a ladder from
A pawn shop marimba
And I leaned it up against
A dandelion treeAnd I filled me a satchel
Full of old pig corn
And I beat me a billy
From an old French horn
And I kicked that mule
To the top of the tree
And I blew me a hole
'Bout the size of a kick drum
And I cut me a switch
From a long branch elbowI'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-sixWell I slept in the holler
Of a dry creek bed
And I tore out the buckets
From a red Corvette, tore out the buckets from a red Corvette

Hump

Lyrics def needed to be posted, id love a thread of what folks think he says. Lol god knows i thought he said crazier stuff that made no sense.

Nick Cirillo

The Hoff
Nutz

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