To the town of Muddy Water, rode Benji one fine day
Hardly spoke to folks around him, didn't have too much to say
No one dared to ask his business, no one dared to make a slip
A stranger there among them wore a warhead on his hip
It was early in the morning when he shot into the town
With a trail of smoke behind him and his goggles pulled way down
He's an outlaw kinda clueless, whispered folks from lip to lip
And he's here to do some business with a warhead on his hip
Now Benji started talking, had a scowl beneath his hair
He was looking for some rockets, don't you stash them anywhere
And he said it didn't matter if they stuffed them in a mare
He had a nose for rockets, and by gosh he'd sniff them there
He dug through Martha's kitchen, checked the chimney stack with flare
Found no rockets in the outhouse, even searched the preacher's lair
With a curse he murdered, I'm not going anywhere
But he tripped on Martha's skillet, and his warhead brought him there
Now the folks all gathered round him, shaking heads with pity deep
Yes a man who rides a warhead is insane beyond belief
They put him in a matchbox, wrote his name in crooked script
Here lies Benji and his warhead every tiny little bit
Now the folks all gathered round him, shaking heads with pity deep
Yes a man who rides a warhead is insane beyond belief
They put him in a matchbox, wrote his name in crooked script
Here lies Benji and his warhead every tiny little bit