Tonart: C major
Verse 1
with the rural electrification
running electric power lines
I was one of the first people
south of Las Vegas, Nevada.
Yes, that's the old Mormon Muddy Mission,
you see.
It's way out in what the Navajos
called the boonies,
out in the desert.
Now the job was gandy dancing.
Now gandy dancing
were building the railroad.
Of course,
the first transcontinental railroad
and they used these long
that were made by the Gandhi Shovel
Company of Chicago.
Now the Irish laborer
would take the wide end of the shovel
when he could find it
and he would jam it in under a rail or a tie
and he would climb out
on the long handle
up of the rail up
and you push gravel
in underneath it
and tamp it down
and that levels the roadbed.
See that's what Gandhi dancing
is.
Leveling the roadbed
so the damn train doesn't fall
off as it goes by
which is just a big drag for everybody.
They don't do gandhi dance
in the normal way anymore,
the old days.
out on the line.
got bunks in there 18 inches
apart.
And then you got a tool car
spikes
and all of that equipment, see, to do the job
and then you got a cook car
so you got a cook car pots and pans
and a coal or wood burning stove
they don't hire is a cook that's because they're cheap
saves the money rule is
that in that crew
they're supposed to pick
among their own members
who's gonna be the cook
they don't try to do it sensibly
like draw lots or decide
who the best cook
is what they do as they wait and find out who bitches and whines and pisses
and moans the most about the cooking and they say all right wise guy
you think you can do better
you get to be the cook
well that was me see old alligator mouth
a new man on the crew
and that was the worst food I'd ever had
I mean it was dog bottom pie
and pheasant sweat
otter water comes out of a otter
it's a terrible terrible stuff
some people might think it's a
delicacy
but I thought it was garb
so I complained and they said
all right wise guy
you get to be the cook
that made me mad
because I didn't want to cook
but I knew if anybody complained
about my cooking
that they were gonna have to cook
armed with that knowledge
I sallied forth over the muddy river
I was walking around
among the cheat grass
and bunch grass there and I looked down and
Biggest damn moose turd
that was a real steamer.
I looked down at that meadow wafer
and I said to myself, self
I'm gonna bake up a big
moose turd pot.
Because if anybody complains about my cooking,
they're going to have to cook.
And I started rolling it down
I got it down there
and I climbed up in the cook car
and I baked up a hell of a big
pie shell.
as slick as you please.
And I crimped the edges with
my thumbs
and laid strips of dough
across it
and garnished with a sprig of parsley,
a little paprika.
And I served it for dessert,
waiting for the first hint of a complaint.
Well, this giant dude come in,
about five foot 40.
I mean he was big,
slowed himself down
like a fool on the stool,
picked up his fork,
of that moose turd pie.
Well he threw down his fork,
and he let out a beller,
and he yelled,
My God, that's moose turd pie!
It's good though.
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