| 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!» |