| Song | Billy Goat |
| Artist | moe. |
| Album | 2014-09-16 - The Mod Club, Toronto, ON |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| He says, “Okay, big mouth, you make me,” BAM knocked him out flatter than piss on a plate. | |
| Some say it’s a river but he called it a moat. | |
| Had his own little island, that old billy goat. | |
| Smoked a meerschaum pipe and wore a dirty old robe. | |
| Wouldn’t move for nothing, that stubborn old soul. | |
| Just stood on his rock in the winter, in cold | |
| watched the river rising out of control. | |
| Ain’t nobody did nothing so I scud up a boat. | |
| I ran down to the beach and then I heard him clear his throat. | |
| (Chorus) | |
| Ain’t nobody lives forever, no one at all. | |
| So hoist your anchor, fair the weather and answer the call | |
| I paddled upstream thinking ‘bout what he’d said. | |
| Was he some kind of genius or just touched in the head? | |
| He never lived in fear, followed or lead. | |
| As the river got higher he never flinched or fled. | |
| Buckets of tears ‘cause the island was gone. | |
| I was the last one there and I heard his song. | |
| There was something from nothing and nothing could hold | |
| his final refrain from being untold. | |
| Nothing could hold his final refrain from being untold | |
| (Chorus) | |
| Nothing could hold his final refrain from being untold | |
| (Chorus) |
| He says, " Okay, big mouth, you make me," BAM knocked him out flatter than piss on a plate. | |
| Some say it' s a river but he called it a moat. | |
| Had his own little island, that old billy goat. | |
| Smoked a meerschaum pipe and wore a dirty old robe. | |
| Wouldn' t move for nothing, that stubborn old soul. | |
| Just stood on his rock in the winter, in cold | |
| watched the river rising out of control. | |
| Ain' t nobody did nothing so I scud up a boat. | |
| I ran down to the beach and then I heard him clear his throat. | |
| Chorus | |
| Ain' t nobody lives forever, no one at all. | |
| So hoist your anchor, fair the weather and answer the call | |
| I paddled upstream thinking ' bout what he' d said. | |
| Was he some kind of genius or just touched in the head? | |
| He never lived in fear, followed or lead. | |
| As the river got higher he never flinched or fled. | |
| Buckets of tears ' cause the island was gone. | |
| I was the last one there and I heard his song. | |
| There was something from nothing and nothing could hold | |
| his final refrain from being untold. | |
| Nothing could hold his final refrain from being untold | |
| Chorus | |
| Nothing could hold his final refrain from being untold | |
| Chorus |
| He says, " Okay, big mouth, you make me," BAM knocked him out flatter than piss on a plate. | |
| Some say it' s a river but he called it a moat. | |
| Had his own little island, that old billy goat. | |
| Smoked a meerschaum pipe and wore a dirty old robe. | |
| Wouldn' t move for nothing, that stubborn old soul. | |
| Just stood on his rock in the winter, in cold | |
| watched the river rising out of control. | |
| Ain' t nobody did nothing so I scud up a boat. | |
| I ran down to the beach and then I heard him clear his throat. | |
| Chorus | |
| Ain' t nobody lives forever, no one at all. | |
| So hoist your anchor, fair the weather and answer the call | |
| I paddled upstream thinking ' bout what he' d said. | |
| Was he some kind of genius or just touched in the head? | |
| He never lived in fear, followed or lead. | |
| As the river got higher he never flinched or fled. | |
| Buckets of tears ' cause the island was gone. | |
| I was the last one there and I heard his song. | |
| There was something from nothing and nothing could hold | |
| his final refrain from being untold. | |
| Nothing could hold his final refrain from being untold | |
| Chorus | |
| Nothing could hold his final refrain from being untold | |
| Chorus |