Trumps like us

The next #1 fash country hit!

Ripped from today’s headlines!

I Done Kilt Me a He-She
from the album “Poopmouth Goes Country”

I was drinkin’ beer n’ whiskey with my buds at the saloon
We was makin’ crude remarks and farts that cleared out half the room
Raised our glasses to the Stars an’ Bars an’ to Stonewall Jackson too
And ol’ Stumpy talked about the time that he near outfoxed a Jew

We’re jes’ from a small town, we like baseball, mom, and beer
And God help ya if ya come around and you’re gay or black or weird

We don’t see that many womenfolk and I guess it’s for the best
City girl come to ask directions once and the boys tore off her dress
Sheriff smoothed it over, but he said, boys, listen here to me:
If you do somethin’ illegal, do it where no one can see

It was late in the saloon one night and I’d had more than my share
When this one come through the doorway and all I could do was stare
Mighta been the short red dress that fit so tight around her thighs
And she didn’t make a sour face when I looked her in the eyes

We’re jes’ from a small town, we like baseball, mom, and beer
And God help ya if ya come around and you’re gay or black or weird

I don’t think we said two words before we left that old saloon
In the back of my Ford pick-up we was gettin’ right in tune
But although there warn’t much light that night from the moon or from the stars
These old hands was always sensitive and that’s how I found the scars

Thinkin’ back, I coulda asked her for the reason she was cut
Maybe cancer, moles, or gastric bypass, or the Lord knows what
But that night one thing obsessed me and it set my brain a-howling:
The damn trannies that I heard about from Fox News and J.K. Rowling
So I said I gotta kill ya, babe, and ya gotta understand,
‘Cause you know if I don’t kill ya, then I wouldn’t be a man

We’re jes’ from a small town, we like baseball, mom, and beer
And God help ya if ya come around and you’re gay or black or weird

Then I grabbed the tire iron I kept back there just in case
And I brought it down a dozen times and I clean stove in her face
Then I ran and got my friends to come clean up that awful mess
And I never told ‘em what was underneath that tight red dress

Well, they never found a body and if they did they wouldn’t blame me
Anyway this here’s a small town and nobody’d dare to name me
Maybe you smart-aleck city folk think we’re evil, sick, and nuts
But you live in small apartments right next door to you-know-whats
Anyway my fans ain’t never seen no city life before
So I show ‘em clips of riots, and some guys robbin’ a store
To convince them anywhere but home is a scary, wicked place
And they’ll know what scared me so much that I smashed that he-she’s face.

We’re jes’ from a small town, we like baseball, mom, and beer
And God help ya if ya come around and you’re gay or black or weird