I’m a broke down wreck with a ball and chain Just sitting in the kitchen with my fortune to fame There’s a monkey in a glass case calling my name There’s a midget on his back, He’s waiting for the midnight train
Cause we’re pulling up stakes Gotta load up the car Get my red pink bag Do some air guitar
Cause I’m running from the air-jets Inside of my head In my bed With a leg full of lead I’m trading gold for bread
Your militarized mistress had you sick like a stone Well I’m out here on the sidewalk where the buffalo roam I can see it in your crystal dancing in like a storm Blowing dusty through the kitchen While you’re standing in your high heels and you’re gone
Yeah there’s this choice you gotta make and it’ll cut to the core Like a preacher throwing dice instead of sleaze on the sore There’s a lady and her lover and they’re covered in the warmth Slipping down through the cracks With the attack and they’re faced with the floor
Cause we’re pulling up stakes Gotta load up the car Get my red pink bag Do some air guitar
Cause I’m running from the air-jets Inside of my head On my bed With a leg full of lead I’m trading gold for breadTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
