Amos Moses - Clay Cooper

Amos Moses was a Cajun. And lived by himself in the swamp Hunting alligator for a living. Knock 'em on the head with a stump The Louisiana law's gonna get you, Amos It ain't legal hunting alligator down in the swamp, boy Now everybody blamed his old man For raising him mean as a snake When Amos Moses was a boy, His Daddy would use him as alligator bait Tie a rope around his waist, Throw him in the swamp Alligator bait on the Louisiana bayou Just about 45 minutes Southeast of Tipidow, Louisiana There lived a man called Duck Bill Sam And his pretty wife Hannah They raised up a son that could Eat up his weight in groceries Named him after a man of the cloth. They called him Amos Moses Now folks in South Louisiana Said Amos was a helluva man He could trap the biggest, meanest alligator. He only had to use one hand That's all he got left 'Cause the alligator bit him. Ha ha! Left arm gone clean up to the elbow Just about 45 minutes Southeast of Tipidow, Louisiana There lived a man called Duck Bill Sam And his pretty wife Hannah They raised up a son that could Eat up his weight in groceries Named him after a man of the cloth. They called him Amos Moses Here comes Amos And you should have seen his pretty wife, Hannah Well, the Sheriff got wind that Amos was in the swamp hunting alligator skin So he hid in the swamp, I'm gonna get you boy. He never did come out again. Well, I wonder where the Louisiana Sheriff went to? Sure can get lost in the Louisiana bayou (3X)

Vacantly stood with these glazed eyes looking down, Blood lines, bubble in my cup think I'm fizzing out, Well I don't hear the sound as I'm reaching out to you, I'm not looking for the fix that I get used to. I get a little, I get a little, I get a little, Rusty. So won't you spare me some time, Doesn't it destroy your soul like it does mine? When nothing that we do is fine, Every high we get the lie that says the waters turned into wine. Well I've been twisting out, I've been twisting out the screws, And I'm not looking for the fix that I got used to, I get a little, I get a little, I get a little, Rusty. I get a little, I get a little, I get a little, Rusty. Chasing rabbits down holes as the Church cheer watching me, The yellow brick road to know where I know as there I go, Seen the road, seen the road, seen the road lead to nowhere before. I get a little, I get a little, I get a little, Rusty. I get a little, I get a little, I get a little, Rusty.