He plays with the ruddiest combinations of words in his charcoally, aggregate tone. Then he underscores himself with sad cello and violin, a plaintive piano. All wrapped up within the parts is an intelligent, zinging yet base-level humor...it should astound you.
...And the GMC's and the Straight-8 Fords were coughing and wheezing
And they percolated as they tossed the gravel underneath the fenders
To weave home a wet slick anaconda of a two-lane
With tire irons and crowbars a-rattling
With a tool box and a pony saddle
You're grinding gears and you're shifting into first
Yeah, and that goddamned tranny's just getting worse, man
With the melody of see-ya-laters and screwdrivers on carburetors
Talking shop about money to loan
And palominos and strawberry roans
See ya tomorrow, hello to the Missus
With money to borrow and goodnight kisses...