| Wake up, Flanagan, the bartender’s comin'
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| He says there’s someone here
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| Who means to do us harm
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| Sound the alarm, it’s the man with the skeleton arms
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| Ten years ago on Hogsback Mountain
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| The flames was roaring like a lion in a fountain
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| The trees were burning, too many to count 'em
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| And trapped in the middle
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| With fire all around him, was a man.
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| Flanagan and I was out camping that day
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| We started our fire with turpentine and hay
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| The wind was howlin' so I guess we should have known
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| That the flames was gonna get blown across the land
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| Wake up, Flanagan, the bartender’s comin'
|
| He says there’s someone here
|
| Who means to do us harm
|
| Sound the alarm, it’s the man with the skeleton arms
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| Two days later when the fire died out
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| Flanagan and I went rootin' about
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| For to find a little dinner of roasted critter
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| Blackened blackbird eggs and pine-cone fritters
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| That was how we happened on the badly burned man
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| He was yelpin' for help and so we each grabbed a hand
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| Thinking we’d be heroes if we dragged him back home
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| We pulled, but pulled the flesh right off of the bone
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| Wake up, Flanagan, the bartender’s comin'
|
| He says there’s someone here
|
| Who means to do us harm
|
| Sound the alarm, it’s the man with the skeleton arms
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| Now of all the mad people, that guy was the maddest
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| He pulled a bone across his throat
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| And pointed right at us
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| Ten years on the lam from that skeletal man
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| He’s sworn his revenge, we’ve heard his sinister plan:
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| He’ll string us up by our hands and lift us over a vat
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| And dip us up to our elbows in boiling fat
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| It’s like an eye for an eye, but ninety-nine times worse
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| He wants to do to us what we did to him
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| Except in reverse…
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| Wake up, Flanagan, the bartender’s comin'
|
| He says there’s someone here
|
| Who means to do us harm
|
| Sound the alarm, it’s the man with the skeleton arms |