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Al Duvall - The Hickory Hotel Lyrics

It's starvin' time on Livermush Creek
A hundred souls all sick and week
We hoofed it up to New York town
Where they love seeing hobos hangin' around
We rooted 'round for a place to flop
And found a burned-out blacksmith's shop
Went to the park and cut some wood
And fixed it up as best as we could

But we're doin' pretty well
At the Hickory Hotel

This city life is kinda rough
The dysentery's got the whoopin' cough
Cows in the bedroom, pigs in the hall
One man's ceiling is another man's wall
Up on the rooftop, the corn is high
Out on the clothesline, thе meat is dry
The police grabbеd my cousin Ruth
And said "That ain't no privy, that's a telephone booth!"

But we're doin' pretty well
At the Hickory Hotel

Jake is sailin' the seven sins
With britches made of tater skins
He's under the trucks parked on the street
That radiator juice is strong and sweet
Big fat possums on the subway track
We chase 'em down, and they chase us back
The train ran down my buddy Dave
Now the possum's in the gravy and Dave is in the grave
But we're doin' pretty well
At the Hickory Hotel

The streets are full of the tired and poor
So grab your rifles and bar the door
'Cause it's blackout time in New York town
And assaults are up when the battery's down