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A Box For Black Paul Lyrics

"A Box For Black Paul" was written by Nate Landrum;george Garrett.
"A Box For Black Paul" was written by Nate Landrum;george Garrett.

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Who'll build a box for Black Paul?
I'm enquirin' on behalf of his soul
I'd be beholdin' to ya all for a little information
Just a little indication, just who will dig the hole?

When ya done ransackin' his room, grabbin' anythin' that shines
I throw the scraps down on a street like all his books and his notes
All his books and his notes and all the junk that he wrote
The whole fuckin' lot right up in smoke

Ain't there nothin' sacred anymore?
Won't someone will build a box for Black Paul?

They're shootin' off his guns, they're shootin' off their mouths
Sayin' 'Fuck with us and die', fuck with us and die
Let's see that rat of fear go scuttle in their skulls
Cover that eye, cover that frozen eye

Black puppet in a heap up against the stonin' wall
Black puppet go to sleep, mama won't scold you anymore

Armies of ants wade up the little red streams
Are headin' for the mother pool
Oh Lord it's cruel, oh man it's hot
Oh man, it's hot and some of those ants they just clap to the spot

Who threw the first stone at Black Paul?

Don't ask us say the critics and the hacks
The pen pushers and the quacks
We just come to get the facts
Oh we just come to get the facts

Here is the hammer that build the scaffold and built the box
Here is the shovel that dug a hole in this ground of rocks
And here is the pile of stones and for each one planted
God only knows, a blood rose grown and listen

These are the true demon flowers
These are the true demon flowers
Stand back everyone, blood black everyone
Blood black, stand back

Who'll build a box for Black Paul?
And who'll carry it up the hill?

Not I said the widow, adjusting her veil
I will not drive the nail or cart his puppet body home
For I done that one hundred times before
Yes, one hundred times or more

And why should I dress his wounds?
When he has wounded my dress
Nightly, right across the floor

Who'll build a box for Black Paul?
And who'll, who'll carry it up the hill?
Now who'll bury him in the black soil?

From the woods and the thickets
Come the ghosts of his victims
We love you, I love you
And this will not hurt a bit

'Outta my eyes we shall rise to fall, to fall to glory
Spring up from the [Incomprehensible]
Spring up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up into death
Up, up, up, up, up, up, up inhale its breath
Yes, death favours those that favor death

Here is the stone and this is the inscription at bare
Below lies Black Paul under the upper
But above and beyond the surface flat fall there

And, and, and, and all the angels come on down
And all you men and women crowd around
And all the old widows weeping into their skites
And all the little gals and the little boys
And the scribes with their pens poised

All the hullabaloo, all the noise
All the hullabaloo, all the noise
All the hullabaloo, all of the noise
Clears his throat of Black Blood
And Black Paul singin' like a lonely boy

Well, I have cried one thousand tears
And I've cried a thousand tears, it's true
And the next stormy night you know
That I'm still cryin' them for you

Well, I had, I had a gal, she was so sweet
Red dress, long and red hair hangin' down
And heaven just ain't heaven
Without that little girl hangin' around

Well, am I laughin' about bein' a bad man?
The Lord knows I done some good things too
But I confess my soul will never rest until you, until you've built
Until you build a box for my gal too, my gal too, my gal too

Songwriters
Nate Landrum;George Garrett

Published by
SONGS OF WINDSWEPT PACIFIC

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