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I know how much you hate to get up in the mornin' |
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But somebody's gotta make a move. |
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There's a parking lot full of Po-lice outside |
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And they all 'axed' of you. |
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He said "I might mislead you but I would n't ever lie to ya." |
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And I said "Well hell, that's the way it ought to be." |
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And he said "I never shot him. He shot himself, |
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While he was shootin' at me." |
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Hey there's a pitchfork sticking through the roof of the car |
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And both the headlights are busted out." |
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These people say they saw you runnin' away." |
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He said, "Hell, I was just going for help." |
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I hope somebody's writin' this down. |
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Let's get our story straight, boys, 'fore we get back to town. |
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My guess is, he just went insane, |
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Tried to swim away with too much change. |
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The Doctor said I can fix that for ya but it's gonna be awhile. |
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Just go on an' take a seat. |
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Try not to bleed on the carpet and |
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Pull the door shut when you leave. |
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A singer/songwriter/massage therapist friend of mine |
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Said y'all might be needin' a little help. |
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Now I'll drive your truck but I don't lift nothin' |
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And I room all by myself! |
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I hope somebody's writin' this down. |
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Let's get our story straight, boys, 'fore we get back to town. |
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Now all y'all witnessed what I said he done. |
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I hope he makes bail. I love it when they run. |
