Paper Mountain Man - Linda Perhacs

Well you live, in a tiny bungalow

With a Dutch wooden door, and a pot belly stove

You wear marlboro boots and buckskin jackets

Sewn by the love of your many ladies' hands

You’ve been called a hero

You’ve been called to bed

You’ve been called be-damned

But we’ll shake your hand

You’re like a paper mountain man

You live ten telephone poles and two trees up a dirt road

Outside the city line

You like delicate ladies with real fine skin

You’ll touch 'em, but you’ll never love

That’s the way you’ve always been

You’ve been called a hero

You’ve been called to bed

You’ve been called be-damned

But we’ll shake your hand

You’re like a paper mountain man

Heard tell you’re half a raccoon and half horse trader

Taking time to key your life biased high

You’re wearing curly hair, teasing round your ears

With a heavy booted walk tapping low funk blues

You’ve been called a hero

You’ve been called to bed

You’ve been called be-damned

But we’ll shake your hand

You’re like a paper mountain man…