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Drunkards Go To Hell
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There`s this self-righteous preacher/businessman feller in our town that uses his advertising space to put up doomsday signs about drinkin`, gamblin`, and fornicatin`. We don`t dig them signs, and he don`t dig our music. Praise the Lord!
foddershock alternative
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Acoustic Appalachian Dysfunctional Folk Rock
AcousticAppalachianDysfunctionalFolkRock...from the dusty black coalfields of southwest Virginia, Foddershock is a collaboration between two long-time friends- one that writes strangely truthful and surreal lyrics about the often sordid details of the human condition, and one that puts it all together with a unique and perfectly twisted blend of American roots music. Songs about love, hate, life, death, drinkin, and killin. Sometimes tragic. Sometimes funny. Always interesting. Everything from guitar driven "Alt. Country" to "bluegrass" to a weird mix of banjos and walkie-talkies that can only be described as "southern banjer trance". Put John Prine, The Grateful Dead, Primus, and Camper Van Beethoven in a blender and you gotta a big ol glass of Foddershock. Drink up!
Song Info
Charts
Peak #13
Peak in subgenre #4
Author
written by A.K. Mullins; performed by W.V. Hill
Rights
2001 Big Belly Records
Uploaded
November 23, 2003
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.6 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Lyrics
Lyrics A liquor store makes drunkards And drunkards go to hell I saw that on a marquee sign Across from the local jail I ain't sure what it really means But far as I can tell A liquor store makes drunkards And drunkards go to hell If you buy a lottery ticket You'll be singin` them Ol' Scratch blues I saw that on a billboard sign That was sellin' them Nike shoes I ain't sure what it really means But have you heard the news? If you buy a lottery ticket You'll be singin' them Ol' Scratch blues Makin' love before you're married Will cause your soul to burn I read that on the bathroom wall Of the Skeetrock Bible Church I ain't sure what it really means And I guess I'll never learn Makin' love before you're married Will cause your soul to burn You can use your God for money It's the small town Christian way I saw that on his business card And in his collection plate I finally figgered out what it means I hope it ain't too late I guess I'll flash my credit card When I'm standin' at the Pearly Gates
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