I was 15 going on 20 when I met up with the soul man he was quite a lover of the cards and of the dice and he had whores and he had ladies he made love and he made babies he could tell some damn good stories and give some good advise

you got to learn how to pick em son learn how to lick em son learn how to stick em son between the thighs and you got to try not to beat em too much try not to teach em too much try not to feed em to much bull shit and lies

He sat down and poured some whisky and he mixed it up with water here’s a picture of my daughter he would say and he would sigh and he would drink and laugh a little as he picked up that old fiddle that same old riddle I never did know why

you got to learn how to pick em son learn how to lick em son learn how to stick em son between the thighs and you got to try not to beat em too much try not to teach em too much try not to feed em to much bull shit and lies

now the years I’ve seen him buried his daughter and me married I was sure he raised her right an taught her how to f*ck when I asked her what he told her shed said he’d never scold her he would always hold her but he never told her much well he told her men were plain and simple told her love was like a pimple once you squeeze the juices out it just goes away he taught her how to hold on tighter and her taught her not to let men fight her and then there was this poem he taught her on his dying days

you got to learn how to suck em daughter learn how to f*ck em daughter learn how to take their money and learn how to cry you got to try not to hold em too much try not to scold em too much try not to feed em too much bull shit and lies

you got to learn how to pick em son learn how to lick em son learn how to stick em son between the thighs and you got to try not to beat em too much try not to teach em too much try not to feed em to much bull shit and lies