"Yeah, let me fuckin' tell ya how ol' Bonesy's doin'." [VERSE 1] Well, the sun was bleedin’ sideways through the busted water tower, When me and Toby rode on in for one more dyin’ hour. The dive was half-collapsed, but hell—what ain’t these days? The barkeep—broad-shouldered fella—poured some rye with deadpan gaze. Toby tipped his hat, took a pull just to be polite— It ran straight through his ribcage in one glorious golden shower bright. [PRE-CHORUS] So while I sipped my nectar, and the world turned soft and deep, Toby got that look he gets when he ain’t got nowhere else to be— [CHORUS] Bonin’ the barkeep, rattlin’ charm in his silent grin, Bonin’ the barkeep, ‘cause a cowboy’s bones get lonely now'n again. He ain’t got flesh, but he’s got moves that’ll make a grown man gasp— Bonin’ the barkeep, with that skull-tilt swagger-’n rasp. [VERSE 2] I watched that rattlin’ rascal play Scuzzy’s banjo soft and low, Pluckin’ little desert love-songs only dead men know. The runes on his litch-ladle glimmered green jes' about waist high, And he don't got eye lids but he sure winked, fuckin' cain't be denied! That barkeep stroked his whiskers, blush creepin’ through the dust, Leaned closer like he ain’t ever been some fella’s stir of lust. [PRE-CHORUS] And I knew from his flustered chuckle and that rusty whispered “yup…” That Toby found himself a pass time while I ordered one more up— [CHORUS] Bonin’ the barkeep, knockin’ dust off that old saloon, Bonin’ the barkeep, to a hummin' hot-pink claymore tune. Ain’t got a pulse, but he’s got rhythm in every click-clack and shake— Bonin’ the barkeep, a one-dusk romance and bone-crust ache. [BRIDGE] Now Toby saddled up, no spurs needed—he IS the sharp spike, Coccyx rockin’, vertebrae snapping with each poppin' strike. Ribs rattled 'gainst the barkeep's chest, hips grindin’ with flair, Guy was gruntin', boots scuffin' dust, hands clutchin' the floorboards bare, That pelvis was strainin', a rack clatterin' rodeo, Sippin' my whiskey slow, watchin’ that skeleton cowboy go. [FINAL CHORUS] Bonin’ the barkeep, ridin' that bastard bone fuckin' dry, Bonin’ the barkeep, stayin' busy while I'm nursin' my rye Ain't got no skin, but he's a fuckin' click-clackin' casanova— Bonin’ the fuckin' barkeep, ‘til it’s time for us to hit the road-uh. "Yee hawww!!!"
