text: Well, he came home from the war with a party in his head
  And a modified Brougham DeVille
  And a pair of legs that opened up like butterfly wings
  And a mad dog that wouldnt sit still
  He went and took up with a Salvation Army band girl
  Who played dirty water from a swordfishtrombone
  He went to sleep at the bottom of Tenkiller Lake
  And he said Gee, but its great to be home
  Well, he came home from the war with a party in his head
  And an idea for a fireworks display
  And he knew that hed be ready with a stainless steel machete
  And a half-a-pint of Ballantines each day
  And he holed up in a room above a hardware store
  Cryin nothing there but Hollywood tears
  And he put a spell on some poor little Crutchfield girl
  And stayed like that for twenty-seven years
  He packed up all his expectations, he lit out for California
  With a flyswatter banjo on his knee
  With a lucky tiger in his angel hair
  And benzedrine for getting there
  They found him in a eucalyptus tree
  Lieutenant got him a canary bird
  And skanked her head with every word
  And Chesterfielded moonbeams in a song
  He got twenty years for lovin her from some Oklahoma governor
  Said everything this Doughboy does is wrong
  Now some say hes doing the obituary mambo
  And some say that hes hanging on the wall
  Perhaps this yarn is the only thing that holds this man together
  Some say that he was never here at all
  Some say they saw him down in Birmingham
  Sleeping in a boxcar going by
  And if you think that you can tell a bigger tale
  I swear to God youd have to tell a lie