Mm, mm

Mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm


Well you live
In a tiny bungalow

With a Dutch
Wooden door
And a pot

Belly stove

You wear Malboro boots

And buck-skin jackets
Sewn by the love of your
Many ladies' hands


You've been called ahead
You've been called to bed

You've been called be-damned
But we'll shake your hand
You're like a paper mountain

Man

You live ten

Telephone poles
And two trees
Up a dirt road

Outside
The city line


You like delicate ladies
With real fine skin
You'll touch them

But you'll never love
That's the way you've always
Been


You've been called ahead
You've been called to bed

You've been called be-damned
But we'll shake your hand
You're like a paper mountain

Man

Mm, mm

Mm, mm

Heard you're half raccoon

And half horse trader
Taking time to key your life
Biased high


You're wearing
Curly hair

Teasing round your ears
With a heavy-booted walk
Tapping low-funk

Blues

You've been called ahead

You've been called to bed
You've been called be-damned
But we'll shake your hand

You're like a paper mountain
Man


You're like a paper mountain
Man


You're like a paper mountain
Man


You're like a paper mountain
Man


Mm, mm

Mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm

Mm, mm, mm