Comin' Back For More
Way up in the snow where the scrub oaks grow
And the conies and the pikas play
Where the marmots abound all a-diggin' in the ground
And the wind blows cold all day
There's a little pile of stones on a little pile of bones
That's what the archaeologists say
But the folks in Lake City, well they sing a different ditty
It'll like to make your hair turn gray
Now it's kinda 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 Cafe
It was the genuine original, highly pathological
Finger-lickin' digital cafe
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
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
He ain't lookin' for your customary prey
No, they're waitin' for bones in a pile of hot stones
At old Al Packer's Cafe
Comin' back for more, comin' back for more
Baby, comin' back for more, Al's Cafe
Old Al Packer was a real bone cracker
Got lost in a blizzard one day
When the boys went to get him old Al just et 'em
And he buried all the bones in the clay
Now you know them fellas wasn't toastin' marshmallows
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 him old Al got loose
And he's a-lookin' for you today
Comin' back for more, comin' back for more
Baby, comin' back for more, Al's Cafe
Now way up in the snow where the scrub oaks grow
And the conies and the pikas play
Where the marmots abound all a-diggin' in the ground
And the wind blows cold all day
There's a little pile of stones on a little pile of bones
That's what the archaeologists say
But the folks in Lake City, well they sing a different ditty
It'll like to make your hair turn gray
Now it's kinda 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 Cafe
It was the genuine original, highly pathological
Finger-lickin' digital cafe
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
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
He ain't lookin' for your customary prey
No, they're waitin' for bones in a pile of hot stones
At old Al Packer's Cafe