`Way up in the snow
Where the scrub oaks grow
And the coneys and the picas play
Where the marmots abound
All a-diggin` in the ground
And the wind blows cold all day
There`s a little pile a` stones
On a little pile a` bones
That`s a-what the archaeologists say
But the folks in Lake City
Well, they sing a different ditty
It would like to make your hair turn gray
Now, it`s kind`a hard to find
But it`ll altercate your mind
If you happen to go the right way
You take Slumgullion Pass
And don`t stop for no gas
Until you get yourself to Al`s CafГ©
It was the genuine, original
Highly pathological
Finger-lickin` digital cafГ©
It was Al Packer`s Legendary
Coronary Fast-food
Cannibal Bar and Buffet
Some dark night
You gonna see a weird light
Up on Cannibal Plateau, they say
It`s a scrub oak fire
Like a funeral pyre
Old Packer`s been a-cookin` all day
A-when the coyotes howl
And the cougar`s on the prowl
They ain`t lookin` for your customary prey
Nah, they`re waitin` for bones
In a pile a` hot stones
At old Al Packer`s CafГ©
[Chorus]
Comin` back for more
Comin` back for more
Baby, comin` back for more
Al`s Cafe
Comin` back for more
Comin` back for more
Baby, comin` back for more
(Old Al Packer
Was a real bone-cracker
Got lost in a blizzard one day )
When the boys went to get `im
Old Al just et `em
And he buried all the bones in the clay
Now you know them fellas
Wasn`t toasted marshmellas
And they didn`t fall asleep in the hay
But it had been a hard winter
So he had `em all for dinner
And they didn`t find their boots until May
Well, the folks in Lake City
Showed very little pity
So they sentenced him to hang next day
But before they could noose `im
Old Al got loose an`
He`s a-lookin` for you, today
Boohoohaha [Courtesy of Chip Davis.]
[Chorus]
Comin` back for more
Comin` back for more
Baby, comin` back for more
Al`s Cafe
Comin` back for more
Comin` back for more
Baby, comin` back for more
(Now `way up in the snow
Where the scrub oaks grow
And the coneys and the picas play )
Where the marmots abound
All a-diggin` in the ground
And the wind blows cold all day
There`s a little pile a` stones
On a little pile a` bones
That`s a-what the archaeologists say
But the folks in Lake City
Well, they sing a different ditty
It would like to make your hair turn gray
Now, it`s kind`a hard to find
But it`ll altercate your mind
If you happen to go the right way
You take Slumgullion Pass
And don`t stop for no gas
Until you get yourself to Al`s CafГ©
It was the genuine, original
Highly pathological
Finger-lickin` digital cafГ©
It was Al Packer`s Legendary
Culinary Fast-food
Cannibal Bar and Buffet
Some dark night
You`re gonna see a weird light
Up on Cannibal Plateau, they say Boohoohaha [Chip again.]
It`s a scrub oak fire
Like a funeral pyre
Old Packer`s been a-cookin` all day
And when the coyotes howl
And the cougar`s on the prowl
They ain`t lookin` for your customary prey Aahoohoohoohoo [Yeah, it`s Chip.]
Nah, they`re waitin` for bones
In a pile a` hot stones
At old Al Packer`s Cafe Bleah! [Could it be... Davis?]
