Spleen Merchant

When I die you can cut me up and take all that you please
But pity the poor dumb fool who gets my bleeding spleen
Corn pone, I born tomorrow, my bone marrow protein filled
Scotch whiskey Men of Tain have come to split your skills
Hey, hey
I got your heaven, I got your burning hell, I got it all right here
Wrap them tight in zip-lock bags to benefit good medicines
If bad, you can toss them back and stuff them in sausages
Isn’t it something so becoming, a gentlemen of good taste
The appetizer’s quite the pleaser, but might you pass the pepper please this way
Hey, hey
I got your heaven, I got your burning hell, I got it all right here
Fertilizer makes your corn row higher, but makes your back yard stink
And all the crows know where the wind blows, where water sinks
Hey, hey
I got your heaven, I got your burning hell, I got it all right here