| Let me tell you 'bout Wayne and his deals of cocaine
|
| A little more every day
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| Holding for a friend till the band do well
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| Then the D.E.A. |
| locked him away
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| Clang clang, go the jail guitar doors
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| Bang bang, go the boots on the floor
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| Cry cry, for your lonely mother’s son
|
| Clang clang, go the jail guitar doors
|
| An' I’ll tell you 'bout Pete, didn’t want no fame
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| Gave all his money away
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| «Well there’s something wrong, it’ll be good for you, son»
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| And so they certified him insane
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| And then there’s Keith, waiting for trial
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| Twenty-five thousand bail
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| If he goes down you won’t hear his sound
|
| But his friends carry on anyway
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| Fuck 'em!
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| Jail guitar doors
|
| 54/46 was my number
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| Jail guitar doors
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| Right now someone else has that number |