Текст пісні
Harvey Hartsell, money is his station
What became of all the animals on his plantation?
He lost it all on the races
And the bank called in his note
To save his own skin
I think he cut all their throats
Yeah, he shot the horses (Of course)
Yeah, he drowned the dogs (Just 'cause)
Yeah, he chopped the chickens
He made steak of the old milk cow
That's how he wound up in jail
Maybe he ought to rot there
No bank is lord over me
They can't jail me for a bill
If I can't have my animals then
My God, no one will
Yeah, he shot the horses (Of course)
Yeah, he drowned the dogs (Just 'cause)
Yeah, he chopped the chickens
He made steak of the old milk cow
That's how he wound up in jail
I think he ought to rot there
There's buzzards overhead
The horses in the corral
Flies everywhere you go
Poisoned hogs by the water trough
The loafers on his property
Sold his silver and his tools
They're using Harvey's fence for kindling
And getting drunk on his hooch
All this I saw
My uncle he did too
And when I'm grown
If I see Harvey Hartsell
I'll tie him to a plow
He'll rue the day he was born
Yeah, he shot the horses (Of course)
He drowned the dogs (Just 'cause)
He chopped the chickens
He made steak of the old milk cow
That's how he wound up in jail
I think he ought to rot there