Standing by the cue rack, hat over his eyes,
|
Smokes drifts slowly from him, looking kind and wise.
|
Seen him in the papers, murder boy Malone,
|
Heard the barman whisper something 'bout the phone.
|
Watch out on the corner, standing by the rack,
|
Little Gringo told her, shot him in the back.
|
Now I'm shaking, yes I'm shaking, now I'm shaking
|
'cos I ain't got the knack.
|
|
Carlos see most cargo, hands against the wheel,
|
Slaughter in the warehouse, bowling alley too,
|
Look behind the jury, scared to point at you.
|
Watch out on the corner, standing by the rack,
|
Little Gringo told her, shot him in the back.
|
Now I'm shaking, yes I'm shaking, now I'm shaking
|
'cos I ain't got the knack.
|
|
Round and round the city, taxis all fall down,
|
Shot at in a Citroen, east side of the town.
|
Waffle in at Winnies, tied between the bars
|
50-50 chances, bulletproof-ul cars.
|
Watch out on the corner, standing by the rack,
|
Little Gringo told her, shot him in the back.
|
Now I'm shaking, yes I'm shaking, now I'm shaking, 'cos I ain't got the knack.
|
|
-----------------
|
The Knack
|
| Squeeze |
