The Ballad Of Buckethead - Buckethead

Who’s that guitar playin' son-of-a bitch?

is a question common asked.

On his head a bucket of chicken bones.

On his face a plastic mask.

He’s the bastard son of a preacher-man.

On the town he left a stain.

They made him live in a chicken house

to try and hide the shame.

For he was born in a coop

and raised in a cage.

Children fear him.

Critics rage!

He’s half alive,

he’s half dead.

Folks just call him Buckethead!

Farmboys they torment him

as he snuggled with the hens.

They hosed him down with water

and stole his little friends.

And late at night he’d sneak off

to the graveyard all alone,

and play his soapbox guitar

to the faces made of stone.

Buckethead found his freedom

at the age of seventeen

when he burnt down that old chicken house

with a quart of gasoline.

He played a few shows on corners

and bought a real guitar.

And with the help of Colonol Sanders

he’s bound to be a star.

For he was born in a coop

and raised in a cage.

Children fear him.

Critics rage!

He’s half alive,

he’s half dead.

Folks just call him Buckethead!