(Third Degree)

Yeah...
I like it...
Uh-huh...
Oh!

Got me accused of peeping
I can't see a thing
They got me accused of petting
I can't even raise my hand

Bad luck
Bad luck is killing me
Well I just can't stand
No more of this third degree

Got me accused of murder
I've never harmed a man
They got me accused of forgery
I can't even write my name

Bad luck
Bad luck is killing me (it's killing me)
Well I just can't stand
No more of this third degree

Can't stand this third degree

Yeah!
That's what I'm talkin' about!

Got me accused of taxes
I don't have a lousy dime
Got me accused of children
And ain't nary one of them mine

Bad luck
Bad luck is killing me
Well I just can't stand
No more of this third degree

No more of this third degree, oh no!
Yeah...