Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 Cold Cold Cold Ground
We're gonna hang you from the highest tree
We're gonna watch your feet swing
We're gonna put you six feet down
Into the cold, cold, cold ground
The sheriff looked up at the man standing on the tailgate
of his truck with a rope tied around his neck. He said,
"Looks like your bad habit days are all over, boy." Then
he spit in the dirt and stirred it around with the tip of
his boot and said, "You have the right to remain silent."
He chuckled at his own bad joke as he turned away. He
said "Come on, let's get this over with."
We're gonna hang you from the highest tree
We're gonna put you six feet down
We're gonna watch your feet swing
Until you're dead, dead, dead
And if they pulled me out of the hole
Would I long to be underground?
Would I see with my eyes and not my mind?
Would my hands cover my mouth and not my ears?
And would I ever fall in love again?
Or would I only be part of some stupid plan?
