| You didn’t mean to do it
|
| but you did it again
|
| The night started out
|
| Fuckin around with your friends
|
| Somebody screamed and things went bad
|
| Now you’re standing accused
|
| And the prosecutor says you should be dead
|
| And they’re frying’up your hair
|
| In that little electric chair
|
| They’ll be fryin’up your hair
|
| in that little electric chair
|
| Fryin’up your hair
|
| In that little electric chair
|
| Electric chair
|
| Electric chair
|
| Electric chair
|
| Easy street is nice in a lawless nation
|
| The police put some flyers in circulation
|
| Stuck one in my door with a scary mugshot
|
| They’re looking for some bad boys
|
| Height, weight, age, race, tattoos too
|
| And they’re fryin’up your hair
|
| in that little electric chair
|
| They’ll be fryin’up your hair
|
| in that little electric chair
|
| fryin’up your hair
|
| in that little electric chair
|
| They’ll be fryin’up your hair
|
| in the little electric chair
|
| Electric chair
|
| Electric chair
|
| Electric chair
|
| The people are quietly hustling for blood
|
| they wanna live in peace
|
| but they don’t wanna budge
|
| from their lazy ways and lazy nations
|
| let em eat pigeon
|
| and live in prison
|
| And they’ll be fryin’up your hair
|
| in that little electric chair
|
| they’ll be fryin’up your hair
|
| in that little electric chair
|
| they’ll be fryin’up your hair
|
| in that little electric chair
|
| they’ll be fryin’up your hair
|
| in that little electric chair |