His blood is pure venom and his teeth are solid gold
His clothes are made from human skin
He's a thousand years old
He lives down by the poison stream
Where only alligators swim
Sits there drinking moonshine
Playing a mean violin, a mean violin
A really wicked grin

You've got four lines on your forehead
And that tells me that you're worried
Don't shoot my dog
Don't shoot my dog
I said please don't shoot my dog

His wife is laying face down in the pool upon the porch
He spied me through his blindness
As I spied her with my torch
His skin goes tight around his face
As he smiles his blinding smile
Points over to a dozen wives laying in a pile
Laying in a pile.... piled high
 
 

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