Stone Cold Crazy
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Sleeping very soundly on a Saturday morning,
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I was dreaming I was Al Capone.
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Rumours going round, gotta clear out of town,
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Smell like a dry fishbone.
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Here come the law, gonna break down the door,
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Carry me away once more.
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Never, never, never want it anymore,
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Gotta get away from this stone cold floor.
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Crazy, stone cold crazy, yo.
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Rainy afternoon, ought to kill a typhoon,
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And she's playing on my slide trombone.
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Anymore, anymore, cannot take it anymore,
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Gotta get away from this stone cold floor.
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Crazy, stone cold crazy, yo.
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Walking down the street, shooting people that I meet,
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Fully loaded Tommy gun.
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Here come the deputy, try fucking getting me,
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Gotta fucking get up and run.
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They got the sirens loose, I ran right out of juice.
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They're gonna put me in a cell,
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If I can't go to heaven, let me go to hell.
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Crazy, stone cold crazy, you know, yeah.
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Stone Cold Crazy (Mercury, May, Taylor, Deacon)
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| Metallica |
