Twenty Broken Fingers
(Cold Pennsylvanian Hell version)

The first mornin' of Fall was the final straw,
Was the "To Hell with it all."
Was when the frost, it came early.
A frozen crow's caw.
He joked he was promised that Hell would be hot
And she, she, she,
Yeah, she humored he

With some song.

"If Hell wants to be cold, Hell can be cold.
'Least when I's a kid, that's what I's told.
Hell will be in our eggs, it will be in our dust.
Right now Hell is our leaks
And our double-wide's rust.
And Hell, it resides between our bloodshotty eyes,
When it's not crawling up the lengths of our backs.
Yeah, Hell tickles up the backs we can't scratch.
Twenty broken fingers between us."

"Well if Hell's everywhere, let's go somewhere new.
I mean I wouldn't mind bein' damned with an ocean view.
Look here babe, I say here's what we'll do:
You'll muder your boss
And I'll stash his head
In the bed of the truck my wife took when she left.
The dogs we'll bring with us, the couch we can sell.
We'll pick a Carolina; we'll find happier Hell.
You, me, and the dogs in a happier Hell."

That first evenin' of Fall should'a been their fresh start,
When they packed up their bags, borrowed a car,
But there's no room for fortune,
Damned as things are,
And, and they can't start their car, start their car, start their car.
Hell, they can't even turn the key
Twenty broken fingers between them.