The Dead South in Hell I’ll Be in Good Company

.
I see my red head, messed bed, tear shed, queen bee, my squeeze
The stage it smells, tells
Hell’s bells, miss-pells, knocks me on my knees
It didn’t hurt, flirt, blood squirt, stuffed shirt, hang me on a tree
After I count down three rounds, in Hell I’ll be in good company
In Hell, I’ll be in good company
In Hell, I’ll be in good company…