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Sitting on a porch, she said |
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I was a bit asleep, but not dead |
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Waiting for the mail to come |
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The postman calls himself Tom |
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He has a dirty mind |
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I guess I'm to old for that |
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So whenever he comes closer |
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With his newspaper |
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I've got a big gun, got a big gun under my bed, my bed |
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Gotta shoot you, gotta shoot right trough your head, your head |
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I've got a big gun, got a big gun under my bed, my bed |
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Gotta shoot you, gotta shoot right trough your head |
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Just the other night, she said |
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He was standing at the side of my bed |
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You should have seen him, dressed up in black |
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He didn't even take off his cap |
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Reaching out his hand |
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I guess I'm too young for that |
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For I don't really go with strangers |
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Mister could you pick someone else? |
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I've got a big gun, got a big gun under my bed, my bed |
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Gotta shoot you, gotta shoot right trough your head, your head |
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I've got a big gun, got a big gun under my bed, my bed |
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Gotta shoot you, gotta shoot right trough your head, your head |
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Celia knows exactly how to pull the trigger |
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Celia knows exactly how to pull |
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Celia knows exactly how to pull the trigger |
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She doesn't know nobody |
