I can hear your lamentations
You been bad to the whiskey again
She called me on the wind
Gimme the medicine for my pain
She sees the dreams of the dying
She sees the nightmares of those who live
My sweet shaman has got the blues
She said you gotta dig, dig, dig
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
She got a black pearl in her p*ssy
And it'll be there 'til the day she dies
Then I'll stick it in her mouth, honey
And spit on her fakin' eyes
I'm comin' to you my shaman
To stoke your fire today
So get cookin' that soup under a full moon
And we'll drive those blues away
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa