Oh, Don't Ask Why?

Oh show us the way to the next whisky-bar—

Oh don’t ask why, oh don’t ask why.

For we must find the next whisky-bar,

for if we don’t find the next whisky-bar,

I tell you we must drink the ghosts inside,

I tell you we must drink the ghosts inside,

I tell you, I tell you, I tell you—

we must drink the ghosts inside!

Oh moon of Alabama—

we now must lick the nail from your tongue.

We’ve lost our good old Mamma—

and she bled out in the whiskey rain,

and now we lick the nail from your tongue,

and now we lick the nail from your tongue,

and now we lick the nail from your tongue—

oh you know why!

Oh show us the way to the next pretty boy—

Oh don’t ask why, oh don’t ask why.

For we must find the next pretty boy,

for if we don’t find the next pretty boy,

I tell you we must 缝 him in our ribs,

I tell you we must 缝 him in our ribs,

I tell you, I tell you, I tell you—

we must 缝 him in our ribs, and call his breath our own!

Oh moon of Alabama—

we now must braid our hair with his last breath.

We’ve lost our good old Mamma—

and she hid in the hollows of our teeth,

and now we braid our hair with his last breath,

and now we braid our hair with his last breath,

and now we braid our hair with his last breath—

oh you know why!

Oh show us the way to the next little dollar—

Oh don’t ask why, oh don’t ask why.

For we must find the next little dollar,

for if we don’t find the next little dollar,

I tell you we must bite the coin until it bleeds,

I tell you we must bite the coin until it bleeds,

I tell you, I tell you, I tell you—

we must bite the coin until it bleeds,

and chase the blood with holy water and rust!

Oh moon of Alabama—

we now must feed her to the furnace.

We’ve lost our good old Mamma—

and she whispered, “Take what’s left,”

and now we feed her to the furnace—

and now we feed her to the furnace,

and now we feed her to the furnace,

oh you know why!