Whip That Mule was the last song completed before Bop and I stopped writing. We did some work on the finale after it was done, but that was never finished. In fact, I pretty much made this one by myself, although it does use Bop's words.

During the weeks leading up to the 2001 Bovinian New Year Bop was doing his usual trash talking about the upcoming trip. This year his trash talk centered on his old truck the "Pig Hauler," and how Bop was going to bring it to Bovinia. This despite the fact that it had bad tires, expired tags and no insurance. It was clear to all that the truck wouldn't make the trip, and it didn't.

I was struck by what a funny song this would make, a Beach Boys styled "car song" about an old broken-down truck. Bop liked the idea, and just before leaving for the BNY he sent the list a poem about Maddoc in an email whose subject was "Thick as a Pigbrain." I couldn't attend the BNY that year, so I spent the weekend combing through Bop's email, and cobbled together a lyric from his bragging, using the Maddoc poem as a bridge. So the reason the verses don't make much sense is because they are just snippets from emails. I hoped Bop would eventuallly write a "real" lyric for this song, and he finally did. Unfortunately his new lyric didn't fit the form of the song, so I never re-recorded it.

The first two verses were recorded very quickly, and I think I did the lead vocals in one take, since I didn't expect this lyric to last. I spent more time on the bridge and the last verse, and it shows. I tried to do a real Brian Wilson production, with some unusual instrumentation on the bridge (harmonica and harpsichord in one spot), a big vocal ensemble, and on the last chorus French horns, timpani and theremin. I also liked using this song to kick off side two, since its a song about people that at first seems to be about animals, a mirror image to Longrows, a song in which animals seem more like people.

one weekend
of the entire year
The real pig-hauler
she'll be ready

She still lives
up at toad hollow
won't have to re-shoe that mule soon

and there's not a fourwheeler
in pigland
that can
whip that mule....

Two gears
and the occasional reverse...
a little momentum....
four dollars worth of gas

she's got a
strong skull
but the tags always expire
before the insurance is due....

and there's not a ten-wheeler
in pigland
that can
whip that mule....
whip that mule....
whip that mule....

The pigs will learn their lesson well
and find that Wall Street's paved with hell
and maddoc's fury, angst and pain.
Nothing too loose. Nothing to gain.

He'll find a threadbare patch of straw
Where missing "z" 's he'll finally saw.
An empty bottle tipped on his cheek
And sleepy-smile as he springs a leak.

Three days
of the entire year
The real pig-hauler
she'll be ready

Take a chance
On the tags and shoes
I know, I know, I'm getting old

and there's no eighteen-wheeler
in pigland
that can
whip that mule....
whip that mule....
whip that mule....
crack that skull....
kick that pig....
flog that frog...
bite that dog...