i've grown tired, of the words of the single man  hangin' lifeless on his every word -- o man  you don't understand dear man  the little angel held out her hand  sayin' father, father i love you  o praise jesus i got her  ok yeah billygoat an we'll play farm  i didn't mean to spirit stiff you  nor to doy you no harm  you say you've got a bone to pick  well, there's plenty showin' on me  come on up yeah bring your temper boy  we'll see, we'll see  yeah you may be the only one come on son  bring your blade and your gun  and if i die by your hand  i've gotta home in glory land