Song parody of
Cold Dead Hands
by Tommy Howell
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They come in all shapes and sizes
Designed to be ugly and mean
Sawed off and other surprises
Like the wicked AR-15
Some are called the bearers of badness
Others the merchants of death
Truth is the sire of sadness
The keeper of the final breath
Smoke Pole Roscoe Hog-leg or Gat
Endbringer Bell Ringer Army Hellcat
Trench-sweeper Derringer Thirty Aut Six
Buck Mark Baby Browning Blicky Firesticks
So come on son take my gun
I'd love to teach you a lesson
There's nothing like the fear of God
Instilled by a Smith & Wesson
It's how we all protect our homes
And hunt on our families land
You want to take my gun from me
You'll have to pry it from my cold dead hands
I ain't sayin' I'm an outlaw
But I'm packin' a loaded gun
Enter my house unannounced cowboy
And you'll be calling 911
Smoke Pole Roscoe Hog leg or Gat
Endbringer Bell Ringer Army Hellcat
Trench Sweeper Derringer Thirty Aut Six
Buck Mark Baby Browning Blicky Firesticks
Come on son take my gun
I'd love to teach you a lesson
There's nothing like the fear of God
Instilled by a Smith & Wesson
My first rifle was a dirty four ten
Got it from daddy rest his soul amen
I can still hear his voice, deep and true
Care for your gun and it'll care for you
Come on son take my gun
I'd love to teach you a lesson
There's nothing like the fear of god
Instilled by a Smith & Wesson
We may not see eye to eye
But I'm talking man to man
If you wanna take my gun from me
You got to pry it from my cold dead hands
My cold head hands
My cold dead hands
My cold dead hands
They come in all shapes and sizes
Designed to be ugly and mean
Sawed off and other surprises
Like the wicked AR-15
Some are called the bearers of badness
Others the merchants of death
Truth is the sire of sadness
The keeper of the final breath
Smoke Pole Roscoe Hog-leg or Gat
Endbringer Bell Ringer Army Hellcat
Trench-sweeper Derringer Thirty Aut Six
Buck Mark Baby Browning Blicky Firesticks
So come on son take my gun
I'd love to teach you a lesson
There's nothing like the fear of God
Instilled by a Smith & Wesson
It's how we all protect our homes
And hunt on our families land
You want to take my gun from me
You'll have to pry it from my cold dead hands
I ain't sayin' I'm an outlaw
But I'm packin' a loaded gun
Enter my house unannounced cowboy
And you'll be calling 911
Smoke Pole Roscoe Hog leg or Gat
Endbringer Bell Ringer Army Hellcat
Trench Sweeper Derringer Thirty Aut Six
Buck Mark Baby Browning Blicky Firesticks
Come on son take my gun
I'd love to teach you a lesson
There's nothing like the fear of God
Instilled by a Smith & Wesson
My first rifle was a dirty four ten
Got it from daddy rest his soul amen
I can still hear his voice, deep and true
Care for your gun and it'll care for you
Come on son take my gun
I'd love to teach you a lesson
There's nothing like the fear of god
Instilled by a Smith & Wesson
We may not see eye to eye
But I'm talking man to man
If you wanna take my gun from me
You got to pry it from my cold dead hands
My cold head hands
My cold dead hands
My cold dead hands
