In the hills of Tennessee,
Sitting 'neath the hickory tree,
There's an ordinary rifle-shooting mountineer.
He loves a mountain feud,
And he also loves good food,
And when he goes home for supper you will hear:

Oh, pass the biscuits Mirandy,
I'm just as hungry as sin.
Pass the gravy Mirandy,
Give me some sup to sup them in.
Since nine o'clock, I've been sitting on a rock,
A shooting everything one in sight.
I shot the coys and a dozen Martin boys,
Shooting gives a man an appetite.

Oh, pass the biscuits Mirandy,
Pass them and kiss me goodbye,
There so heavy Mirandy,
I feel like I'm a gonna die.

Then they heard a rifle crack,
And a bullet hit the shack.
And another broke the dishes on the shelf.
So he grabbed his trusty gun 'cause the battle had begun,
And he knew that he must then protect himself.

Oh, pass the biscuits Mirandy,
I'm a gonna load up my gun.
I'll use your biscuits for bullets,
I'll put those varmets on the run!

He poured a ton of black power in his gun,
Rammed the biscuits into place.
Then he took good aim,
Oh my goodness, what a shame,
Bang the gun exploded in his face!

Oh pass the bandage Mirandy,
I know that I'm gonna die.
Darn your biscuits Mirandy,
I knew they'd get me by and by.



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Thanks to (anonymous) for correcting these lyrics. Aug 6, 2009