T-bone Billy just a singin' the blues
|
Caught his lady with another man
|
Lit up a smoke and did some talkin'
|
With the back of his hand
|
|
She started shakin', started losing her mind
|
But he was kicking back and playing it cool
|
Signed her walkin' papers
|
Took the 5:15 to Kalamazoo
|
|
Sing for your supper,
|
Nobody rides for free
|
Eat your heart out, I'll send it C.O.D.
|
|
One, two baby what you do
|
Three, four let me show you the door
|
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
|
Five, six take your last licks
|
Seven, eight let me give it to you straight
|
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me
|
|
Now Billy-boy's out havin' a ball playin' fiddle at the local bar
|
Dark shades, cool kicks, he's Hollywood Blvd.
|
Slick Daddy and his fat cigar sayin':
|
"Sign upon the dotted line!"
|
He shook his head and said:
|
"All I need is that fiddle of mine!"
|
|
Sing for your supper,
|
Nobody rides for free
|
Take your big time, I'll take care of me
|
|
One, two baby what you do
|
Three, four let me show you the door
|
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
|
Five, six take your last licks
|
Seven, eight let me give it to you straight
|
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me
|
|
When trouble came knockin'
|
Billy kep-a-rockin' like this...
|
|
Sing for your supper,
|
Nobody rides for free
|
Eat your heart out, I'll send it C.O.D.
|
|
One, two baby what you do
|
Three, four let me show you the door
|
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
|
Five, six take your last licks
|
Seven, eight let me give it to you straight
|
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me
|
|
One, two baby what you do
|
Three, four let me show you the door
|
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
|
Five, six take your last licks (lick it)
|
Seven, eight let me give it to you straight
|
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me
|
|
-----------------
|
Makin` A Mess
|
Skid Row |