PICK-OFF AT THE FLYING DUTCH MOTEL
(tune: Some folks think it sounds alot like "The Ballad of Pretty Boy Floyd." Not me.)

It was in the town of Black Vale
Back ten years I heared tell
That the Bluegrass Aficionados
Was at the Flying Dutch Motel.

Bill Johnson from the Jaycos
In a manner some deemed mean
Yelled something at young Lyle
On his way to the ice machine.

Now some say Lyle's a hot head
And some say he just coughed
But afore the dust had settled
T'were to be a big pick-off.

The Jayco Brothers come a runnin'
They was tryin' to get in tune.
Just as the Aficionados
Hit the lot there at high noon.

The banjos they was a flashin'
All a blindin' in the sun.
The basses was a thumpin'
Like foxes on the run.
(on the run, on the run, on the run, on the run, on the run)

None would call a quarter
And as the sun went down
Them bands picked endless medleys
Their deals would not go down.

At midnight still a pickin'
Lights flashed and thunder roared.
Their faces all looked deathly white
As they found the long Lost Cord.

When the sun come up next morning
Nothing could be found
Except for some silver flat picks
Left lying on the ground.

So if you're ever down near Black Vale
On a dark and stormy night
Avoid the Flying Dutch Motel
They say the Lucky Stiff's alright.
(Stiff's alright, Stiff's alright, Stiff's alright, Stiff's alright, Stiff's alright)
slide whistle, fast guitar run, bass thump, falsetto scream and out...