The Armadillo Jackal
by Robert Earl Keen	Robert Earl Keen

"The Armadillo Jackal" by Robert Earl Keen

This song uses a capo on the 3rd fret and all the chords are listed as

the 3rd fret being open.

Am G

The evening sun was sinkin' down, a chill north wind a-blows

F E

The new-plowed ground was coolin' fast, the river rolls and flows

Am G

Beneath the two-lane concrete river bridge between my place and town

F E

On that hot-bed Farm to Market road they call 1291

Am G

I'm sayin' son you'll see me searchin'; sizzlin' down that broad hi-way

F E

Dollar signs in both my eyes, I'm seekin' out my prey. I'm prayin'

Am G

"Jesus, will you send me just another three or four?"

F E

They pay two-fifty down in Halletsville, 3 dollars, maybe more.

Am G

And more than likely they'll be out tonight a-wanderin' from the farms;

F E

Waddlin' down 1291 to keep their bodies warm.

Am G

I'm talking walkin' belts and neckties, and boots for rodeo;

F E

They don't run too fast, don't waste much gas. I'm makin' lots o'dough.

Am C G Am Am C G Am

The armadillo....o....o...o The armadillo....o....o...o The armadillo

(after this use the same chord progression as the first verse)

The armadillo never sees me when I hit him with my brights.

His life don't flash before his eyes, he's blinded by my lights

And so I hit him with my bumper doin' sixty, sixty-five;

They take 'em frozen down in Halletsville

They don't take 'em alive.

The jackal cri....i....i...ied

The jackal cri....i....i...ied

The jackal cried, "Good God there's two of them a-walkin' down the line.

I can't believe my luck tonight this here makes twenty-nine!"

And so he rolled the first one runnin'.

The second was too fast.

His brakes and laughter squealin' as he stomped down on the gas.

Good-God, his car was sideways flyin', when the bridge wall met his door.

The impact shook the river bed, his foot went through the floor

Forevermore....or....or...ore

Forevermore....or....or....ore

Forevermore was his last moment from the bridge wall to the stream;

From the speckled blood around his smile a-spewin' gasoline.

And then he screamed his raspy epitaph, before he turned to flame:

"They pay two-fifty down in Halletsville.... I ain't the one to blame....."

Ain't it a sha....a....a...ame

The jackal cri....i....i...ied

The armadillo....o....o...o

The armadillo....o....o...o

(repeat until fade)