old man peter was a mighty man
combed his hair with a frying pan
washed his head in a wagon wheel
died with a toothache in his heel
sally
you just ain't no dog gone good
but i wouldn't get rid of you
sally
if i could
don't you send me no foul prayers
we'll play in a band while your little feet dance
i come home 'round a quarter to four
saw you threw my food all over the floor
i see you walking down the street with a bottle in your hand
looking for another drunkard to raise some sand