|
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. |
