The Ballad of Uncle Red

counrty, folk ballad, horror

Lyrics

Uncle Red was a big man with large hands. Solid and strong.
Stood about six foot-two and his heart of gold fit the size of the man.
With a shark-ie grin and a wile-ie laugh.
Behind an intense grizzled stare and caring eyes, is a tired yet mighty soul with a sleepin’ rage.
He was a blue collar guy, was rugged and worn. Seemed to always have a drink in his hand.
Uncle Red was an alcoholic and never could stay with one woman.
Divorces and girlfriends, drunken bar fights and a burning sadness for his lengthy record of underachieving.
He had no kids of his own,
but loved his niece and nephew with all his heart & soul.

[CHORUS]
I said time and time again you can’t bet managers.
Piss on the Yankees!
Piss on the Indians!
Uncle Red fought the Reverend Werewolf, for the kids.

[V1]
This man was a hero to his nephew Marty,
long-before the beast showed.
He was a rambunctious boy.
No older than twelve, the year the summer turned to hell.
Marty was born with legs that didn’t work.
Uncle Red wasn’t just his uncle but also his best friend.

[B1]
Janie was Marty’s older sister, she was bothered by Uncle Red’s drinking and womanizing ways.
She became more distant to Uncle Red but still loved him so,
though it would seem otherwise when trying to hurt Marty, during their times of argument.

[C2]
I said time and time again you can’t bet managers.
Piss on the Yankees!
Piss on the Indians!
Uncle Red fought tooth and nail with a Werewolf, for the kids.

[B2]
Uncle Red built Marty a wheelchair motorbike,
that he named Silver Bullet an amazing work of ingenuity and craftsmanship.
The thing was fast and dangerous.
This is a Legendary Uncle at work.

[V2]
Marty was nearly eaten by the beast late one night,
while lighting off fireworks on the old town bridge.
In a last ditch effort Marty halfheartedly took aim with Uncle Red’s finale rocket.
Now, The Reverend Lowe’s a vengeful one-eyed preacher man…
Marty tells his sister and after time she begins to believe.
They tell Uncle Red but he knows there’s no such things as Werewolves.

[C3]
I said time and time again you can’t bet managers.
Piss on the Yankees!
Piss on the Indians!
Uncle Red shouts “Jumpin’ bald-headed Jesus Palomino!”

[V3]
Uncle Red loves his niece and nephew, so he made two silver bullets and stayed the night.
Their parents out of town, as dusk fades into a full moon night.
Uncle Red is abruptly woken by his lit cigarette burnin’ his hand.
During the late witching hour, the beast plows into the house. It was a monstrous snarling-mad animal, out from satan’s forest.
Many a town folk had been slaughtered by its sharp grizzly paws. Now it’s time for Red’s fearful fight.
The living room will become their rasslin' matt. He grabs the fire poker time to go to work. This is where Uncle Red fights a werewolf for the kids!

[CLOSE]
I said time and time again you can’t bet managers.
Piss on the Yankees,
Piss on the Indians,
Uncle Red proved the time of the beast will always pass