Dan HillebrantTrailer Trash Folk/Acoustic Rock/Americana

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Live recording with the band Graybeard. "Trailer Trash" can always be counted on to get the party rolling. The only other thing you need is a case of Old Milwaukee Ice. A really fun song to perform or listen to! From the Album, "Graybeard: Trailer Trash - American Dream" Music and Lyrics by Dan Hillebrant. Dan Hillebrant: Vocals, Rhythm Guitar. Randy Johnson: Lead Guitar, Back-up Vocals. George Asboe: Guitar, Back-Up Vocals. Allen Ross: Percussion, Back-Up Vocals

Trailer Trash Dan M. Hillebrant Verse 1: Well, she’s a double wide mama, lives in space forty—three, Makes me kinda crazy what she do to me: I never quite know where she’s comin’ from, ‘cuz she’s drinkin’ whiskey while I’m drinkin rum. Well, I can’t understand what she’s talkin about, cuz she goes in the bathroom and she takes her teeth out. Well, she’s scary. Yeah, her legs are hairy, and ev’ry friday night it’s a helluva bash, she’s trailer trash. Verse 2: Now, she watches Pro Wrestlin’ on her color t.v. She loves that figure-four leg-lock, yeah, she tried it on me. She reads those old tabloids like the Weekly World News and all them romance novels, honey, that’s what she’ll choose. She got thirteen kids from six different men—— and if you gave her the chance, you know she’d do it all again cuz she’s scary. Unhunhuh Hey, and ev’ry friday night it’s a hell of a bash, She’s trailer trash. (Spoken) Oh, now, I’m gonna tell you a little bit about this, just so you know what I’m talkin’ about. See, she got the fourteen-by-seventy sittin’ on the lot; concrete driveway’s cracked and broken. There’s ragweed, dandelion and dick-weed comin’ up through the holes, and sittin’ up on cinder blocks, she got a nineteen sixty-two Plymouth Valiant station wagon. Now, the place has got a couple of broken windows, but that’s alright ‘cuz she plugged up the holes with old Kimbies boxes. No shortage of them. Front steps is made out of used pallets. They kinda greasy, so watch your step now. And out there alongside the house, she’s got a six-thousand-dollar satellite t.v. dish! Verse 3: She got that tiny little mustache on her upper lip. She got a terry cloth bathrobe with a couple of rips. She got them canvas deck shoes with the holes in the toes; I think once upon a time they used to be white, but now nobody knows. And if you see her standin’ there in her t—shirt and stains, best keep your mouth shut, son, if you got any brains, cuz she’s scary. Yeah, her legs are hairy (Ah, hell, so’s her back!) And ev’ry Friday night it’s a helluva bash, she’s trailer trash. (Spoken over lead) Oh, she’s an amazing woman, I’m her to tell you. You can pick her out about three blocks away in a crowd. She got hair the color of pickled beets, wearin’ those salmon colored stretch pants with the stirrups, she got so much cellulite on her but it looks like she was spanked with a waffle iron. Verse 4: Now, you’re probably wondrin’ just what I see in her, ‘cuz she ain’t no Julia Roberts, now that’s for damn sure. Well, maybe it’s the way her eyes just sparkle and shine when ev’ry chance she gets she slaps me right back into line. Well, if you really want to know, I got one thing to say: She’s got the keys to the handcuffs, and I can’t get away! Yeah, she’s scary. Woah, her ass is hairy, now, and ev’ry Friday night it’s a helluva bash, cuz she sells her food stamps for spendin’ cash and her breath always kinds smells like corned beef hash, yeah, she’s trailer trash On hunhuh, trailer trash Got that wash-and-wear wedding dress, woaoh, trailer trash (Oh, my little trailer trash, come on over here to papa, baby; I can’t quite get to you!) x