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Kitty Malone sat on a mule |
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Was riding in style |
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When suddenly, like the sound of a buzzard's breaking |
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Kity felt laser beams being fired at her head |
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She said, "I hate laser beams |
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And you never done see me askin' |
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For a UFO |
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In Tomahawk County" |
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Well she kicked the mule |
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And it walked the path |
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And the aliens fired from behind |
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Till she stopped the mule |
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And she kicked the rump |
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And the big old mule took a big old dump |
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Scent of a mule, you better watch out where you go |
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Take your laser beams away |
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Scent of a mule, you better watch out where you go |
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You better stop that laser game |
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Or you'll smell my mule |
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She felt the fire against her neck |
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And it saddened her to feel it burn |
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When suddenly, like the sound of a breeding Holstein |
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Kitty said, "Stop, we ain't lookin' for fightin' |
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In Tomahawk County." |
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A little guy from the UFO |
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Came on out and said his name was Joe |
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She said, "Come on over for some lemonade |
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Just follow me now with the whole brigade" |
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Chorus |
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They walked into her cabin shack |
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They had never seen a southern home |
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And they liked it, better than their UFO |
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They liked it, they really liked it |
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They said, "Here's a place of elegance |
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Here we shower ourselves in lightness" |
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Chorus |
