[TECHNICAL SPEC] [Dark Outlaw Gothic Country | 92 BPM | Ultra-low Bass Baritone Vocal | Melodic Singing (not spoken word) | Minimal Arrangement: upright bass, dry drums, sparse slide guitar | Southern gothic atmosphere | Dry sarcasm storytelling tone | Johnny Cash x Nick Cave (minimal, lower, darker) | No orchestral build, no rap, no pop structure] [INTRO – INSTRUMENTAL] [CHORUS] Kissin’ a pretty woman feels like Heaven, that’s a fact, But don’t you kiss her at the altar, buddy, take it back. ‘Cause right behind them church doors, boy, you’ll see — The gates of Hell called “marriage” open up. Now listen to me. [VERSE 1] I been married four times in my life, that’s a fact, My first wife was a blonde with zero tact. With a temper like thunder, Lord, I’m tellin’ you true, If she’d been born a hundred years back, here’s what she’d do: She’d have Hitler under her heel, no place left to hide, And Stalin with Churchill bringin’ her slippers with pride. [BRIDGE – INSTRUMENTAL] [VERSE 2] My second wife was a redhead, wild and skinny, Could start a full-blown war from a whisper or grin. She was a real talented woman, I’m tellin’ you true, In just a minute she could make from nothin’ and she would do: A scandal that’d turn our whole apartment into a battlefield, A tragedy, and Greek salad flyin’ through it… [CHORUS] Of course, kissin’ them felt like heaven’s sweet blessin’, But at the altar, Lord, I kissed ’em in vain. With them I looked straight through the open gates swingin’ wide, Of hell called “family” — and I walked right inside. [VERSE 3] My third wife was a brunette, all heat and no shame, She didn’t care about the crisis, just money was her aim. Prada, Gucci, asshole bleached and Ruinart champagne, When my credit card screamed out, and my first stroke came — She got herself a fucking lawyer for divorce And took my house and my truck. Big loss. Could’ve been worse. [BRIDGE – INSTRUMENTAL] [VERSE 4] My fourth wife bleached everything she touched - Her own hair, and my whole damn life. She was more toxic than nuclear junk patch, And as exhausting as a pro wrestling match. After she left, it took a full damn year to recall who I was before, Now when folks talk marriage, I just croak like a raven — “Nevermore!” [CHORUS] Of course, kissin’ them felt like heaven’s sweet blessin’, But each one of ’em rode me right after the wedding. Under their saddle I rode straight through the gates swingin’ wide, Of hell called “family” — and I barely found my way out. [BRIDGE – INSTRUMENTAL] [VERSE 5 – FINAL] The Good Book talks about four horsemen, ridin’ out to end the world, But on me rode four horsewomen, Good Lord! I hauled them around on my back like a dumb mule - Half my life… God, I was one hell of a fool! I call my ex-wives Conquest, War, Famine and Death, in this exact order, So you can call me Uncle Apocalypse. The song’s over. [BRIDGE – INSTRUMENTAL] [CHORUS – FINAL] Of course, kissin’ them felt like heaven’s sweet blessin’, But now I call my ex-wives nothin’ but what they were: Conquest, War, Famine and Death — in this exact order. So you can call me Uncle Apocalypse. The song’s over. [OUTRO – INSTRUMENTAL EXTENDED]
