Chris Sand

Lyrics

His shower stall’s too small / There’s dead red skeeters on the winders and walls / There’s death on the toilet seat / We both got fungus on our fingers and feet / His king-size bed’s half-covered in tools / ‘Cause without a woman there ain’t no rules / And there’s a Styrofoam cup in the dirty dish rack / ‘Cause his coffee mug done cracked, ha, ha, ha // Chorus: Me and my daddy in the bachelor house / Working on the bachelor house (x2) // Daddy can build about any old thing / But he'd rather drink liquor on the old porch swing / And as for me, I don't do a lot / I sweat like a horse when the sun gets hot // Chorus // Daddy walks around without any clothes / Looks like a ghost and is, I suppose / Buries his grief where the Hound’s Tongue grows / And from his heart sprouts a rose / It's been ten years since my father died / The coroner ruled it a suicide / Judge said, "Son, you're the fortunate one / ‘Cause you inherited the house and the old shotgun” // Chorus // When I look in the mirror I see my daddy / On the message machine I can hear my daddy / His voice is raspy and his breath is nasty / And he won’t stop talkin’ to me, ha, ha, ha // Chorus