Shy of bumfuck Songtext

von Howe Gelb

Any town any town shy of bumfuck.
Making up my mind is hard enough.
Blisterin', whistlein', wind struttin' stuff enough for two.
So you just need to drive not even more then a 2 x 2 two by four.
Dieseling between each and every hop-a-long kereoke truck stop arcade.
Lush and languish, tender morsel to the touch, keep you on the right path.
Ain't I lucky to catch you in between grey area arenas.
Ain't I lucky enough. thick and matted clotted with yesterday's good clean dirt.
Picking out her scent in the thicket of greasey strands.
Something that sweet gets through the asphalt spray of hi-way grit.
Clear on through the first two flat tires she insisted on.
Little old lug-nut she twisted on.
Good to be the persister.
Good to be barely alive.
Good to have nothing more than her.
Good to have nothing more than her.