(Kinky Friedman)
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They say that even Jesus hates a loser
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And when you die you go to hockey hell
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And when your soul gets sent down,
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There'll be the devil skatin’ round
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And an interview with Howard Cosell.
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Well, some call him a jet-set gladiator,
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Some say he's a soldier in a bloody silver war.
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But he's one hell of a warrior ?
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He's got a good lawyer
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And every time he crosses that line you can hear that garden roar.
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And he keeps on skatin’ on thin ice
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Just six inches from paradise
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Livin’ on the ice, lovin’ on the run.
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He keeps on skatin’ on thin ice
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Just six inches from paradise,
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Written in the stars, meltin’ in the sun.
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Well, he scored again last night out in Vancouver,
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You might say that it was on a power play.
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He come in close, he shut the light,
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Before his teeth came out that night,
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In the morning it was hell to break away.
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Through northern lights and southern nights there’s someone
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Who warms your heart as you shiver from the cold.
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But every gypsy, every lover, every dreamer must discover
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What you win out on the ice, you’re gonna lose out out on the road.
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And he keeps on skatin’ on thin ice
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Just six inches from paradise
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Livin’ on the ice, lovin’ on the run.
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He keeps skatin’ on thin ice
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Just six inches from paradise
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Written in the stars, boy, meltin’ in the sun.
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Written in the stars, boy, meltin’ in the sun.
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Skatin' On Thin Ice
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| Kinky Friedman |
