Comin` Back For More Lyrics

Comin` Back For More lyrics

'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 Caf¨¦  
 
It was the genuine, original 
Highly pathological 
Finger-lickin' digital caf¨¦ 
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 Caf¨¦  
 
[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 Caf¨¦  
 
It was the genuine, original 
Highly pathological 
Finger-lickin' digital caf¨¦ 
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?]