David F. Bello - O.T.B. lyrics

Let's reenact the Civil War After we drink our bellies sore With your father's moonshine Where the little boy died After playing with a broken power line In the first place I come in second place But I will not wait for third All those lines on your counter White like those on the road The dog went back to where we found her Since we didn't feed it well Where did our money go? The mailman is a narc He reads our magazines He doesn't get modern art And he hates us Because we drink gasoline