On moonlit nights
And sun filled springs
I find a few
Of my favorite things
The wings of an eagle
An old witches curse
A man who can hide
In the back of my hearse
Which way will I wander
As I step on stone path
And one mile over
Is the man with his axe
With blood on its edges
From the bodies of men
Hidden in the hedges
And hanging from poles
Like scarecrows in rows
Stand seventeen dead
Guarding the corn
My path takes me right
And the axe man is left
But right is the worst
When you're wrong in your head
For I too have an axe
But it's just one to grind
Instead I carried a shovel
And my old '49
I see the old man
Who's trick left me dead
I gave him a surprise
And shot off his head
Took care of his neighbors
Fed his dog well
Now I'm back on the path
To the highway
To hell.
