| Caught the mother jack knifin'
|
| A little bit low lifin'
|
| Goin' twenty paces with the medicine man
|
| Runnin' from the girl in pigskin
|
| A little gun shy but shootin'
|
| Hidin' in the kitchen with his head in his hand
|
| Bleed, me--why can’t you say what you mean?
|
| How far has it gone, it didn’t take you long
|
| To put your hand in the medicine jar
|
| In your private hell, now you’ve found yourself
|
| In the hands of the medicine jar
|
| Sittin' here with all your bitchin'
|
| Cookin' up a new addiction
|
| Prayin' that the light of day ain’t wakin' the dead
|
| Droppin' like a bomb on Hiro
|
| Shakin' like San Francisco
|
| Only to be diggin' out to do it again
|
| Bleed, me--why can’t you say what you mean?
|
| Make it go away, make it go a--way
|
| Caught the mother jack knifin'
|
| A little bit of low lifin'
|
| Goin' twenty paces with the medicine man
|
| Droppin' like the bomb on Hiro
|
| Shakin' like San Francisco
|
| Hidin' in the jungle with your head in the sand
|
| One step from bein' free, what did you think
|
| You’d see at the bottom of the medicine jar |