| Song | Lonesome Bulldog |
| Artist | Butthole Surfers |
| Album | Pioughd |
| 作词 : Butthole Surfers | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| It's turning to spring | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| It's that time again | |
| Though it's raining | |
| Stop complaining | |
| There's a long | |
| Road to bear | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| Get alone, over there, | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| In spring. | |
| Well, Mahatma | |
| Ghandi was a little spindly bottom ying ragged headed boy, who grew up in a | |
| Western Kentucky village called | |
| Johnstonvile, in | |
| Harrison County, there he grew up. | |
| His mother was a white woman, his father was a rastifarian, he refused to buy the family seafood on their outings. | |
| There he developed a taste for convertibles, blonde haired women, and big old long | |
| Indian dig, so get alone, get alone little | |
| Mahatma Ghandi in the spring. | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| While there's snow on the ground | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| Where you'll never be found | |
| In the morning | |
| Without warning | |
| And there's | |
| No food to share | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| Get alone, over there, | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| In spring. | |
| Well pretty soon little | |
| Mahatma Ghandi was going 300 miles per hour, and | |
| I'll tell you what, he was going 300 miles per hour was because his strangely turbo charged penis head was making him do it that why, just kidding. | |
| Mahatma Ghandi had a tremendous career at high school, college, and in law school, and in the house of representatives. | |
| There he found himself as a presidential candidate, and met up with | |
| Mary Joe Pipette, and across the (?) bridge they did ride. | |
| So get alone, get alone little | |
| Mahatma Ghandi in the spring. |
| zuò cí : Butthole Surfers | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| It' s turning to spring | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| It' s that time again | |
| Though it' s raining | |
| Stop complaining | |
| There' s a long | |
| Road to bear | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| Get alone, over there, | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| In spring. | |
| Well, Mahatma | |
| Ghandi was a little spindly bottom ying ragged headed boy, who grew up in a | |
| Western Kentucky village called | |
| Johnstonvile, in | |
| Harrison County, there he grew up. | |
| His mother was a white woman, his father was a rastifarian, he refused to buy the family seafood on their outings. | |
| There he developed a taste for convertibles, blonde haired women, and big old long | |
| Indian dig, so get alone, get alone little | |
| Mahatma Ghandi in the spring. | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| While there' s snow on the ground | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| Where you' ll never be found | |
| In the morning | |
| Without warning | |
| And there' s | |
| No food to share | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| Get alone, over there, | |
| Get alone, lonesome bulldog | |
| In spring. | |
| Well pretty soon little | |
| Mahatma Ghandi was going 300 miles per hour, and | |
| I' ll tell you what, he was going 300 miles per hour was because his strangely turbo charged penis head was making him do it that why, just kidding. | |
| Mahatma Ghandi had a tremendous career at high school, college, and in law school, and in the house of representatives. | |
| There he found himself as a presidential candidate, and met up with | |
| Mary Joe Pipette, and across the ? bridge they did ride. | |
| So get alone, get alone little | |
| Mahatma Ghandi in the spring. |