Hot steam rising from the door, by the tar road.
Crawdads kicking in the dirt.
Serious cleavage in pink motels.
(The) preacher's emptying his bucket. [ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/a/alice_donut/bucket_forks_and_pock.html ]
(Chorus)
Forks in the road
Pock marks in starch-white shirts.(2x)
Carcass rotting in the yard, by the motel.
(The) Bayou's washed it on the shore.
Maggots turned up butterflies in the deep south.
Here I am running from the pulpett.
