Taco, Buffalo, Birddog and Jesus Songtext
von Guided by Voices

Taco, Buffalo, Birddog and Jesus
Taking the? to see
? guidebook
The hairiest thing we′d agree

They'd been driving a pickup from Plymouth
? holes in his jeans
As they whistled the spirits above them
The circus matures beneath(?)


Irrepressable? of peoples
? the others he knows
But the ones who? nice people
Into the black smoking hole
Nobody opens his eyes
It′s hard to look up in the sun
And so? shove them along

In the cross? apple
Something will carry us a long
Takes a hell of a? sunday
And stays till the boat swings along
Nobody opens his eyes
It's hard to look up to the sun
And so?

Beyond the bars and? of mid-western factory towns
People?
Some of us think it odd that a large percentage of bona-fide miracles were witnessed today
But I've seen Taco take a big long drag off his self whittled pipe and sit back and laugh
Rednecks hugging and buying each other drinks
And then Jesus blows the clouds away with one puff
Crawls back into his cage and goes to sleep