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By townes van zandt |
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Among the strangest things I ever heard |
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Was when a friend of mine said "man, let's get some thunderbird" |
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I said "what's that? " he just started to grin |
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Slobbered on his shirt, his eyes got dim |
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He said "you got fifty-nine cents? " |
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I said "yeah, I got a dollar, but don't be a smart-aleck |
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I ain't gonna spend it on no indian relic" |
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And he said "thunderbird's not an old indian trinket, |
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It's a wine, man, you take it home and drink it." |
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I said "it sure don't sound like wine to me" |
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And he said he'd bet me the change from my dollar |
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We hustled on down to the nearest u-tate-um |
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The guy wanted my id, I whipped her out and showed him |
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He got a green bottle from the freezing vault |
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My friend started doing backward somersaults |
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Through the cottage cheese |
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Took it back to his house, started drinkin' |
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Pretty soon I set in to thinkin' |
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"man, this thunderbird tastes yummy, yummy, yummy |
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And I know it's doing good things to my tummy, tum..., t..." |
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It's so you reason when your on that crap |
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Got a few more bottles, chugged them down |
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I pulled myself up off the ground |
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Decided I go see my dearest sweet wife |
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Who met me at the door with a carving knife |
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Said "get them damn grape peel from between your teeth." |
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I could see we're gonna have a little misunderstanding |
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I said "dear, I better get in touch with you later" |
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She said "forget it, man, you're never touchin' me again!" |
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Now I've seen the light and heard the word |
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And I'm staying away from that ol' dirty thunderbird |
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A message come from heaven radiant, and fine, |
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All I drink now is communion wine |
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Six days a week |
