Get on, ride me all the way under
Get on, ride me all the way down
Get on, ride me all the way under
It won’t be my fault when we drown
It won’t be my fault when we drown
And I will grin the dead horse grin
Get on, ride me all the way over
Get on, hold on tight to the mane
Get on, ride me all the way over
Across the chilling stream of pain
And I will grin the dead horse grin
Whip the dead horse until he swims
Get on, disregard the decaying
Get on, the posh salubrious beast
Get on, no more pitiful braying
Saddle me smiling and deceased
Ride me, smiling and deceased
Thursdays in August buy a perch dinner
Win a canoe.
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