His fucks couldn't be heard,
Or his cunts, shits, mother-fuckers, and clits,
Or wisest of his words,
He strolled from that garage to the basement,
A two-four in each hand,
Manifested from the check he just got,
He is a simple, and yet complex man,
He swigs a beer and then swings a hammer,
Both will be pounded down,
He gets up and the day better watch out,
Darrel's coming to town.
You can't stop him,
You think he'd stop himself,
Some people defy what the man says do,
And builds a pedestal, no fucking shelf.