Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's

"Billy Bobbie's St James Infirmary" is a re-imagining of the traditional piece, sometimes also known as 'Gambler's Blues'. It is from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's.  The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

I went down to St James' Infirmary
Found my baby there
They had her stretched out naked on a table, boys
All sutured up from hither to God-knows-where
Sutured up from hither to there

I said, Doctor, Doctor what ails her?
My gal's as pale as can be
He said, I'm sorry to say your woman passed yesterday
Now can you sign a couple papers for me?
Just need a signature or two, maybe three

Oh Doctor no, no, how could she just up and go?
He said, Well that part's a little unclear
It might've been the scurvy
Might've been something nervy
Might be something maybe crawled in her ear
Something nasty crawling up in her ear

Well Doctor tell me you didn't let her suffer
He shook his finger, said That wasn't our fault
She ripped her bindings to pieces
Tried to bite off her leeches
Wrote her final words in blood on the walls
Wrote her final requests on the walls

She asked for six lonely sailors to carry her coffin
Six strumpets to sing her a song
She said tell all the immoral bring a little sprig of laurel
Won't want to smell her as they bear her along
Won't have to smell her as they bear her along

Oh Doctor no, Doctor no
Please say it isn't so
There's some things that never should be
Could turn the world up and over
Look under rock and clover
Never find another woman for me
Never find another woman for me

Well it's seventeen miles to the old Potter's Field
A man could walk hisself from gristle to bone
But that's nothing compared to that trip down to where
He's gotta cross the River Styx all alone
Try to find her, try to bring her back home

Oh let her go, let her go
God help her
Wherever she might be
Could search the world over
Under stone, under clover
Never find another woman for me
Never find another woman for me

Now I'm going back to St James Infirmary
Pistol up my sleeve
And with a pain in my heart like something ripped it apart
But I know a good doctor to see
I know a really good doctor to see

And you can get me six angry judges to carry my coffin
Six hangmen to sing me their song
Make sure that all of them wear a little tonic in their hair
Don't want to smell them as they bear me along
Wouldn't have to smell them as they bear me along

Oh let her go, let her go
May God bless her soul
Wherever it might be
Could search the world over
Look under stone and clover
Never find another woman for me
I'll never find another woman for me
There'll never be another woman for me

Live at Tippecanoe's

Billy Bobbie's St James Infirmary (Work Tape)

'Let Me Take You to the Mardi Gras' is a Cajun-flavored number from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's. The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

Found you sitting in your underwear
Curtains open, said you didn't care
Ask me if I've ever wondered where
All the good goes when it's gone

Well I ain't much for philosoph'cal talk
Don't harbor lots of deepish thoughts
Think 'bout football, think 'bout beer more than I ought
If I'm out there on the rigs

But I can see the writing on the wall
Lipstick letters in a cursive scrawl
Don't even have to read it all
To know that I'm to blame

Why don't I take you to the Mardi Gras
You used to love to go to Carnival
We'll talk our way onto a fancy float
If you get cold I'll wrap you in my coat

'Cause you're the prettiest gal in Lafeyette
The sweetest thing the South's come up with yet
Just let me take you to the Mardi Gras
Before you go away

Let me take you to the Mardi Gras
Let me take you down to Carnival
We'll hop a ride up on a passing float
When you get cold I'll wrap you in my coat

'Cause you're the prettiest girl in Lafeyette
The sweetest thing the South's come up with yet
Just let me take you to the Mardi Gras
Before you go away
Let me take you to the Mardi Gras
Before you go away

Let Me Take You to the Mardi Gras (Work Tape)

'Redneck Girl' is part of a collection of songs written for a fictitious and quirky musical act called Billy Bobbie Horton and His Large Mudbugs Band. There was supposed to be a story to go along with these pieces, but the tale never grew any legs. The songs are not suitable for pitching, but they seem to have some merit and so I am trying to polish them up and figure out what might be done with the collection. Any comments or feedback would be appreciated, but I am neither a singer nor an audio engineer, so please forgive the vocals. The entire set can be heard on a private playlist found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large/s-0HM2q

Redneck Girl (Work Tape)

'Tacoma' is a sad country love song from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's. The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

There's a gal looks like you in Tacoma
But I escaped to Oklahoma                                                                  
Come Tulsa, thought I heard somebody call your name
Didn't stop again till Bangor, Maine                                                       

Seems any gal who treats me tender
Winds up some great pretender
No matter what they say, no matter what they do
It all just makes me think of you                                              

I've run the back roads to Atlanta                                                     
And through most of eastern Alabama
Seen the Mardi Gras down in Mobile
Got drunk on Bourbon and on Beale

All those times I tried to leave you                                                       
'Cause I thought that it would please you
Thought a little space, some time apart                                                    
I might could drive you from my heart                                                     

Took 66 down to St Louis
Paddled up the great Missouri                                    
Hitched rides on Sunset Boulevard
And San Francisco cable cars
 
I tried the road to San Antone
I've tried old Highway 61                                           
The Skyline Trail betrayed me too
They all just drove me back to you

Back in old times there'd be maps
That let a man fall right off the world                                
Into the mouths of dragons
And forget about a girl                                                      

Somehow the dragons they broke free                             
Now where they roamed it's just you and me                                             
Like some last great mystery
Beyond all known geographies                                         

Drove 66 down to St Louis
Paddled up the great Missouri
Hitched rides on Sunset Boulevard
And San Francisco cable cars
 
I tried the road to San Antone
I've tried old Highway 61                                          
The Skyline Trail betrayed me too
They all just drove me home to you

Tacoma (Work Tape)

'Rosalita' is from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's. The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

Rosalita, leave the lights on when you go
Rosalita,  leave me a little coffee on the stove
Rosalita, feels like I'm gonna be awake a while                                                         
Why don't you leave me a tasty little sandwich setting out on the kitchen counter tile
Just a tasty little something to tide me over for a while      
                        
Rosalita, I need a little this or that   
Rosalita, did you remember to feed the cat
Rosalita, who spilled their beer here on the floor                                   
Rosalita, these ain't clean yet, you'll wanna scrub them some more

I smell something smelly in the bathroom            
Seen a spider on my wall
Think things be nesting in the attic                                           
Heard one scurry down the hall                              
You know the yard it's all a tangle
Can't have all them creepers be creeping in                  
Rosalita, Rosalita
Make it all be right again

Rosalita, where'd all this hair come from in my sink                         
Rosalita, think I had a little accident in my sleep
Rosalita, you sure it ain't time yet for another pill                        
Rosalita, crank the heat up, I got just a smidgen of a chill

I need a little sugar for my sweet tooth
Need you to scratch a wee bit higher
I need some whiskey for these ice cubes
Need some tinder for my fire
Need the shades drawn, need the doors locked
'Fore the dark starts creeping in
Rosalita, Rosalita
Make it all be right again

Rosalita, you work so hard to please me so
Rosalita, you should take a little break before you go
Rosalita, slip them shoes off, come keep me company for a while  
Won't have to do nothing but lie there and smile

There's something stinky in the bathroom                        
Seen a spider on my wall                          
Think things be lurking in the attic                           
Heard 'em scurry down the hall
You know the yard's all in a tangle
The creepers are creeping in                        
Rosalita, Rosalita
Make it all be right again

Rosalita, leave the lights on when you go
Rosalita,  leave me a little coffee on the stove
Rosalita, looks like I'm gonna be up for a while
Why don't you make me a tasty little sandwich, leave it on the kitchen counter tile
Gonna need me a tasty little something here in another little while

Rosalita (Work Tape)

'I Tried for a Long Time to Write You a Song' is a very short country tune from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's. The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

Well I tried for a long time to write you a song
But the words wouldn't come
My tunes wouldn't hum
Woke up one morning and I seen you were gone
Still I tried for a long time to write you a song

I Tried For a Long Time To Write You a Song (Work Tape)

'The Rug Scuffle Shuffle' is a 'euphemism blues' in the spirit of Bo Carter (if not the style) but with a nod to Leon Redbone. It is from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's. The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

Got me a gal
She got a wood peg leg
She kind of grumpy, kind of lumpy
But she gives it away
She likes to scuffle the rug
We scuffle 'round on her rug
She give me kisses and hugs
Squeeze me tight as a bug
And lets me scuffle her rug

I know this gal
Who wears a patch on one eye
Might be Neanderthal old
But she's easy as pie
She likes to scuffle the rugs
She lets me scuffle her rug
She gives me kisses and hugs
A little wink, a little tug
And lets me scuffle that rug

Some gals are pretty
Got sweet pieces and bits
But what good are they to you
When she won't do the splits?
I'd trade ten cover girl mugs
For one that scuffles the rugs

Got me a gal
I can't remember her name
There ain't a tooth in her head
But she's always game
She likes to scuffle a rug
Gal lives to scuffle the rug
She gives me kisses and hugs
Jiggles them jugs
And begs me scuffle her rug

Some gals are pretty
But it's all just a tease
Give me a girl with carpet burns on her knees
You keep your cover girl mugs
My baby scuffles the rugs

Found me this gal
She 'bout as ugly as sin
We're talking warts on her nose
We're talking beards on her chins
But she can scuffle a rug
Can tear a hole in a rug
I give her kisses and hugs
I squeeze her tight as a bug
She lets me scuffle her rug
I give her kisses. give her hugs
Squeeze her tight as a bug
She lets me scuffle the rug

The Rug Scuffle Shuffle (Work Tape)

'Legs Like Ginger Rogers' is from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's. The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

She got legs like Ginger Rogers
She got a butt just like Marilyn Monroe
And when she laughs she's Rita Hayworth
But when she smiles it's Jean Harlowe

I seen her sitting 'cross the diner
Ruby lipstick in her hand
She was scribbling something on a paper place mat   
In a language I don't understand

She said Take me to the movies
She said Mister, can you take me to a picture show?
Buy me a Technicolor romance
Ply me with popcorn and a Coke

Now me, I look a lot like Peter Lorre        
I stumble 'round on little Jimmy Cagney legs
But I got abs like Sydney Greenstreet
From all these late night ham and eggs

She say You be Bogart, I'll be Bergman
She say You be Burton, I'll be Liz
She say Let's pretend we don't have to depend on the kindness of strangers
Until the house lights come up again                                       

And she had legs like Ginger Rogers
She had that butt just like Marilyn Monroe
Sometimes she laughed like Rita Hayworth
Sometimes she cried like Miss Garbo

Legs Like Ginger Rogers (Work Tape)

'A Barfly's Benediction' is from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's. The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

Oh Lord, don't let Jesus find me
Don't tell Him I'm here in this bar
I swear on my grave
I don't wanna be saved
Hell, I'd rather be feathered and tarred

So oh Lord, please don't let Jesus find me
Let's just leave things be just as they are
I can pay for my own sins
With tonic and gin
I'll find Grace in the back seat of her car.

A Barfly's Benediction (Work Tape)

An old time-sounding number from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's.  The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

Well I won a little money
On a scratch-off, honey
Why don't you put your dancing shoes on?
I'll fill up the motorsickle                               
Buy you French fries and a pickle
If you'll just put your dancing shoes on 
We'll run up the coast to Bernie's
Park the bike around the back
Pour some quarters in the juke                
And then we'll tear up that old shack                     
We could be the king and queen                         
Of Bernie's barroom scene tonight                    
If you'll just put your dancing shoes on                       
Oh, honey
Baby, put your dancing shoes on.

I know it's early in the week
I know you like your beauty sleep          
But baby, you should put your dancing shoes on
I hear we won't be young forever
You can dust and broom whenever              
Babe, you gotta put them dancing shoes on
Can only grab it when they give it     
Time don't let us beg and borrow  
What difference will it make                 
If you call  in sick tomorrow?          
It's our lucky day
Ain't right to throw it away           
Baby, you should put your dancing shoes on
Oh honey
Baby, put your dancing shoes on

We'll glide our feet 'cross the floor
Till we can't feel 'em no more
Baby, you should put your dancing shoes on
The crowd they'll all stop and stare           
We'll be like Cyd and Astaire                    
Don't you wanna put them dancing shoes on?                   
Hear Little Richard, Buddy Holly and that Big Old Bopper, too
We'll stomp and romp Chantilly Lace then hop a little boogaloo   
If we scoot we'll be in Dover               
'Fore the Happy Hour is over               
Baby, you should put them dancing shoes on
Oh honey
Please Baby, put your dancing shoes on.

When Bernie calls it a night
And he turns out the light
I'll take you and them dancing shoes home
We'll grab a couple of beers
And then we'll climb up the stairs
Where I can get you and them shoes all alone          
I'll slip off my bolo tie
You slip out your dress
Lay your head back on the pillow
And I'll do all the rest
Girl, I'll rock your hotsy trotsie
Till the cows come home
If you'll just keep them dancing shoes on  
Sweet mama
I love to do it with our dancing shoes on

Baby, Put Your Dancing Shoes On (Work Tape)

A little country toe-tapper from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's.  The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

Well I got out of jail
Felt like raisin' some hell
So I wandered down to Hurly's saloon
Scored a booth in the back
Stole some meth, little crack
Off a couple of Columbian goons
I think I's on my fifth beer
Maybe my fourth Everclear
I'd won two out of three bar room fights
I hit on Hurly's wife Flo
So Hurly asked me to go
He said I'm having too much fun tonight

He said, You're having too much fun tonight now boy
You're having too much fun tonight
Best take your foot off the gas
'Fore I put mine up your ass
You can't be havin' that much fun tonight.

Well I can take me a hint
When I see gun metal glint
I grabbed a waitress and I rolled out the door
She said, I'm still on my shift
I said, Hey babe, don't be miffed
Life is short, a gal like you deserves more
I got a '65 Bonneville
A big back seat
I got a pillow for your head
I got stirrups for your feet
She said, That sounds mighty fine
We'll have to try it sometime
But you've been having too much fun tonight

She said, You're having too much fun tonight, pretty baby
You been having too much fun tonight
She said, You talk mighty big
But there's no steel in your rig
'Cause you been having too much fun tonight

Well she jumped out at the light
Blew me kisses goodbye
I watched her wiggle-walk herself down the road
I know the gal she's a tart
But there's this pain in my heart
Like she done popped it with a double-ought load
Now I been shot down by the best
Been slapped around by all the rest
But I've never known it ever fail
To ring a lady's bell
It's a pickle of a plight
You know I hate it when they're right
I might be havin' too much fun tonight

She said You're having too much fun tonight, pretty baby
You been having too much fun tonight
She said, We gave it our best
Go home and give it some rest
'Cause you been having too much fun tonight

Well when I got out of jail
I felt like raising some hell
So I wandered down to Hurley's saloon
Scored a booth in the back
Stole some meth, little crack
Off a couple of Columbian goons
Then Hurley gets a little pissy
'Cause I'm hitting on his missy
And his waitress jumps shift and takes flight
To make a long story short
The evening wasn't worth a fart
'Cause I was having too much fun tonight

Well I've been having too much fun tonight, pretty baby
I been having too much fun tonight
I'll make a long story short
The evening wasn't worth a fart
'Cause I was having too much fun tonight

I'm Having Too Much Fun Tonight (Work Tape)

'The Misogyny Waltz' is from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's.  The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

You know I've never been attracted to older women                     
I don't have a taste for young things                                          
I don't like a gal that takes more than she's giving                              
And I don't want a girl whose mood swings

Don't want me nobody that's morbid or manic                                
Or diseased with some thing they don't cure
Don't want no gals coming from some other planet                   
And I can't stand the girl next door

There's a rumor I've heard
That some guys like a girl                            
Who will cater to their every whim
And that's all well and fine
But a gal of that kind
Isn't quite my idea of a gem

I'm not mesmerized by a pair of blue eyes            
Not seduced at the flick of a skirt                                             
Golden waves of blond hair framing features so fair                    
For some reason, on me, never work

I don't like the dumb ones
Or emotionally numb ones                                                   
Or those ones that you blow up with air
I don't like the kind                                                                   
Who love to screw with your mind                                                       
Or that sort that's all scriptures and prayers                        

Some guys like big butts
Some like wild crazy sluts
Most make do with whatever they get  
But I'm never settling for some random fate's meddling
Never settling, even not for sure bets

I don't fantasize about sweet Swedish thighs
When I'm lying alone in the dark
Never stop just to stare at a pair out to there
As they're jogging along in the park

No hookers, new agers or liberal art majors
No vegans, no Wicans, no hags                                                                
No gold-diggin' heartbreakers, no orgasm fakers                                
And no one always on the rag

I don't want nobody I can't run and cry to
I don't want nobody I can't heave and sigh to                                               
And I don't want nobody I can't ever lie to                                            
Guess I don't want nobody
Let them keep their nobodies                                                             
'Cause I don't want nobody but you

The Misogyny Waltz (Work Tape)

'What's the Matter With You?" is from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's. The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

Well she ain't good lookin'
But she sure ain't shy
The gal's got all the parts and pieces
That you need to get by
Boy, why the hesitation, trepidation
What's there to fear
Truth to be told
I like the view from the rear
Between any two people
Runs a cold lonely chasm
She could heat things up a lot
With her enthusiasm
So take it or leave it
But don't pretend you don't need it boy
What's the matter with you?

Now Susie's not a cutie
Runway model ain't her job
Those teeth could stand some fencin'
And her nose could use a bob
You think that stops a heart from beatin', boy
The heart don't hold back
They'll hear her three blocks over
If she slips you in the sack
Between any two people
There's a dark lonely chasm
Why not give that thing a jump
She's got enthusiasm
You can take it or leave it
But I'm thinkin' you need it, boy
What's the matter with you?

Little Debbie's got an appetite
That nothing seems to sate
Her figure shows off everything
She sucks up from her plate
Breakfast, lunch and dinner
Leave her famished to the core
I shouldn't have to tell you
What she's really hungry for
Between any two people
There's that deep lonely chasm
She  could fill it to the brim
With her enthusiasm
So take it or leave it
But you ought'a believe it, boy
What's the matter with you?

Now Judy's got a beauty mark
Looks like a lobster claw
There's a three alarm fire hazard
Stuffed down Wendy's Wonder Bra
Lisa's locked up in the ladies'
Trying to get a zit to pop
While Patty's in a panic
'Bout her little muffin top
Between any two people
There'll be shit to get over
Be some weevils in the cotton
Some bees in your clover
You can take it or leave it
But we all kind of need it, boy
What's the matter with you?

Well she ain't good lookin'
But she sure ain't shy
The gal's got all the parts and pieces
That you need to get by
Why the hesitation, trepidation
Nothing to fear
Truth to be told
I love the view from the rear
Between any two people
There's that deep, lonely chasm
Why not give the thing a jump
She's got enthusiasm
You can take it or leave it
But you ought to believe it, boy
What's the matter with you?

Yeah, you can take it or leave it
But we all kind of need it, boy
What's the matter with you?

What's the Matter With You? (Work Tape)

'When I Lay Dying' is from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's. The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large


This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

When I lay dying
From an outlaw's gun
Just leave me lying
In the badlands sun
Don't call no doctor
Don't call no nurse
Don't call the sheriff
Don't send for the hearse

When I lay dying
Don't say no prayers
Won't need no favors
From the man upstairs
Don't play no sad songs
Don't dig no grave
And don't turn things to ashes
That you'll just throw away

When I lay dying
In my blue suede suit
I won't need this bow tie
Or these snakeskin boots
Won't need this guitar
Or my sombrero hat
Won't need my good gal
You can have all that

When I lay dying
From a bad man's gun
Just leave me lying
In the badlands sun
Don't call no doctor
Don't call no nurse
Don't call the sheriff
Don't call the hearse
When I lay dying
Here's all I need
Just leave me lying
Let the vultures feed
Send my heart up flying
On a blackbird's wings
Let my heart go flying
On a blackbird's wings

When I Lay Dying (Work Tape)

'Honey, You're My Bread and Butter' is a 'euphemism blues' in the spirit of Bo Carter (if not the style). It is from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's. The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

I said Honey you're my bread and butter
You're my thick and thin
I said  Honey you're my bread and butter
You're my thick and thin
I said Honey you're my bread and butter
You're my thick and thin
Hear me scratching at your back door girl
Why won't you let me in

She said Sugar, you got a lot of nerve
Come scratchin' at my door
She said Sugar, you got lots of nerve
Come scratchin' round my door
She said Sugar, you got quite the nerve
Be scratchin' up my door
I hear you're running round Chicago town
You can't scratch my stuff no more

I said  honey you're my victory lap
You're my loving cup
I said honey you're my victory lap
My sweet, sweet loving cup
I said I'm here to take my victory lap
Hug that lovin' cup                                                                
Hear me knocking on your back porch girl
Why won't you give it up

She said Sugar, you can take your shuck                                   
And you can take your jive
She said Sugar, you can take your shuck                                   
And you can take your jive
And she said Sugar, you can put that stuff                    
Somewhere the sun don't shine                                                               
You come sniffin' 'round my sweet back porch                                             
I'll skin your ass alive                                                                    

I said  Honey you're my bread and butter
You're my thick and thin
I said  Honey you're my bread and butter
You're my thick and thin
I said  Honey you're my bread and butter
You're my thick and thin
Let's stop beatin' 'round your bushes, babe
Just please, please let me in

Well I been to Spain
Flown aeroplanes
Traipsed all around the world
I done been to Spain
Flown aeroplanes
Traipsed all around the world
I said I been to Spain
Rode aeroplanes
Tramped all around the world
I been here and there, I been everywhere
She's my bestest back door girl
I been here and there, I been everywhere
She's my bestest back door girl

Honey, You're My Bread and Butter (Work Tape)

'There'll Be Time' is a soft rock ballad from a collection of songs written for a fictitious musical performance -- Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band Live at Tippecanoe's. The entire Mudbugs playlist can be found here:
https://soundcloud.com/bbhorton/sets/billy-bobbie-horton-his-large

This is a work tape, so please excuse its flaws. The project is in its 'feedback phase', so all comments are welcome. Thank you for listening.

Lyrics:

There'll be time to get by
There'll be time to get through
There'll be time for the old wounds
There'll be time for the new

There'll be time to look forward
There'll be time to step past
There'll be time when things crumble
There'll be time when they last

There'll be time to catch up
There'll be time to slow down
There'll be time to chase glory
There'll be time to give ground

There'll be time to pretend
There'll be time to make sure
There'll be time for the heartaches
There'll be time for their cures

There'll be time to be wicked
There'll be time for amends
There'll be time for young lovers
There'll be time for old friends

There'll be time wild with anger
There'll be time to appease
There'll be time just to hold on
There'll be time to unleash

There'll be time to face up
There'll be time to bow down
There'll be time for the hero
There'll be time for the clown

There'll be time filled with silence
There'll be time filled with song
There'll be time to be righteous
There'll be time to be wrong

There'll be time for all good men
To rise and to fall
If we wake up tomorrow
There'll be time for it all

There'll Be Time (Work Tape)

I can't sing worth a damn and my audio engineering is even worse, but I'm looking for feedback on a work-tape collection of slightly quirky songs, written for a fictitious musical act called Billy Bobbie Horton & His Large Mudbugs Band. There's a variety of styles here -- honky tonk country, a Cajun-flavored piece, some old-time blues and even a little rock number or two. So if you don't like what you hear at first, you might try clicking on the next song and see what you think.

Thanks for listening. And any Comments (pro or con), Likes, Reposts and Follows are always appreciated.