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Now me and my partner we work on the run |
|
The quick try to get quicker |
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And the creepers get hung |
|
Now it's you that got wasted tonight on the job |
|
One lost his liquor |
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And the other lost his head |
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Ten sticky thumb prints on the door and the sink |
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But nothin' saw nothin' - just smelt' the stink |
|
Five hundred mugshots and a hundred to one |
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Four forgotten and the rest just won't come |
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When you've begun to think like a gun |
|
The rest of the year has already gone |
|
When you've begun to think like a gun |
|
The days of the year have suddenly gone. |
|
Blood on the windows and blood on the walls |
|
Blood on the ceiling and down in the halls |
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And the papers keep pounding on everything I burned |
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And the people getting restless but they'll never learn |
|
I picked up a doctor - he's good with a knife |
|
Says anaesthetic's a waste of his time |
|
Works in a hurry but always worthwhile |
|
Knows they won't be back for a long long time |
|
Top of the staircase was ready to fall |
|
We were still waiting downstairs in the hall |
|
Watch out for big mama, she'll set you on fire |
|
Or go for your neck with the chicken wire |
|
When you've begun to think like a gun |
|
The days of the year have suddenly gone |
|
Once you've begun to think like a gun |
|
The days of the year have already gone |
|
Mother of plenty, mother of none |
|
You've got me cornered and still on the run |
|
I don't care nothing 'bout you anyway |
|
Stuck in this hole I'm well on my way |
|
When you've begun to live like a gun |
|
The days of the year have already gone |
|
When you've begun to think like a gun |
|
The days of the year have suddenly gone |
