Slingshot Professionals Lyrics - Slingshot Professionals - Kelly Joe Phelps

Calculated entry in the class of circumspection 

Reasoning, bargaining the last few drams of spirits 

The serum of one's foolishness, oh, and truth be told in a cold pint head 

Sixteen ounces of pure warlord dripping down the side of the glass 

Yeah, we're marching 'cross the family's land with bagpipes and drums 

Oh, the skirts are flying high, me boys, let's bust 'em in the shins 

No matter nothing knowing, nothing owing, save the garden, save 

Of a crooked, hobbled, garish man, oh, sundown in his eyes 

Oh, in his eyes 

Fifty year old walking stick worn through the lion's head 

Carried proud like a saber on a limestone statuette 

Oh, the littles can't decide which to lust for, which to desecrate 

Imagination sits still with marbles in a drawer 

Lotta slingshots, song and dancing, blasting out lead paned windows 

Then the wing whipped curtains sway this way like giant Mockingbirds 

Those damned lads and lasses have forgotten how to play 

Hard pressed to find one, hard pressed to find one 

Who ever learned how to sing