Criminology Lyrics
| Song | Criminology |
| Artist | Tom Russell |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| I had a gun pointed at my head on several occasions, | |
| Yeah Nadine | |
| I was scared. | |
| Something about a black man with a machine gun make you wish you said your prayers, | |
| It was Nigeria, the year was 1969 | |
| I was teaching criminology,playing a little guitar on the side. | |
| In Apache | |
| Pass, Prince | |
| Rupert, Injun | |
| Jack puts a gun to my head | |
| He said ‘how do you like it now gentlemen? | |
| How’s your blue eyed boy | |
| Mr Dead?It was | |
| Canada this time, the year was 1971 | |
| I was performing at the club | |
| ZanzibarIn the neon world of knives and guns | |
| Oh excuse me if | |
| I’m boring you dear listener, accept my humble apology. | |
| You may think | |
| I’m just a folk singer, no, | |
| I’m a master in the art of criminology. | |
| When Picasso died, the | |
| Indians cried in a | |
| Prince George motel room. | |
| We were drunker than a thousand white men playing lumber camp saloon. | |
| It was Canada again, the year was 1973 | |
| There were grizzly bears walking down main street | |
| What an amazing sight to see.well the devil rides a cubist horse, the devil he’s got anglesbut | |
| God is an expressionist, he got the devil strangled down in purgatorian limbo in hell | |
| Ahh them southern rip joints just like that | |
| God’s waiting room is full of painters and poetsand old black jazz saints in pork pie hats | |
| Oh excuse me if | |
| I’m boring you dear listener, accept my humble apology. | |
| You may think | |
| I’m some jive folk singer, no, | |
| I’m a master in the art of criminology. | |
| BreakSo I got off a plane in | |
| Nigeria, it was 1969. | |
| Arrested by | |
| Ton Ton Macoute. | |
| Taking photos was a war zone crime, they were going to hack me up with machetesa | |
| US ambassador come home paid my bribe | |
| So I played guitar with | |
| Victor Uwaifoand taught a little criminology on the side | |
| Yeah that’s my story and | |
| I’m sticking to it | |
| No regrets, no surrender, no apology | |
| I know a little bit about a lot of things | |
| I’m a master in the art of criminology | |
| Yeah that’s my story and | |
| I’m sticking to it | |
| No regrets, no surrender, no apology | |
| I know a little bit about a lot of things | |
| I’m a master in the art of criminology | |
| No regrets, no surrender, no apology | |
| I know a little bit about a lot of things | |
| I’m a master in the art of criminologycriminologycriminologycriminology |
| I had a gun pointed at my head on several occasions, | |
| Yeah Nadine | |
| I was scared. | |
| Something about a black man with a machine gun make you wish you said your prayers, | |
| It was Nigeria, the year was 1969 | |
| I was teaching criminology, playing a little guitar on the side. | |
| In Apache | |
| Pass, Prince | |
| Rupert, Injun | |
| Jack puts a gun to my head | |
| He said ' how do you like it now gentlemen? | |
| How' s your blue eyed boy | |
| Mr Dead? It was | |
| Canada this time, the year was 1971 | |
| I was performing at the club | |
| ZanzibarIn the neon world of knives and guns | |
| Oh excuse me if | |
| I' m boring you dear listener, accept my humble apology. | |
| You may think | |
| I' m just a folk singer, no, | |
| I' m a master in the art of criminology. | |
| When Picasso died, the | |
| Indians cried in a | |
| Prince George motel room. | |
| We were drunker than a thousand white men playing lumber camp saloon. | |
| It was Canada again, the year was 1973 | |
| There were grizzly bears walking down main street | |
| What an amazing sight to see. well the devil rides a cubist horse, the devil he' s got anglesbut | |
| God is an expressionist, he got the devil strangled down in purgatorian limbo in hell | |
| Ahh them southern rip joints just like that | |
| God' s waiting room is full of painters and poetsand old black jazz saints in pork pie hats | |
| Oh excuse me if | |
| I' m boring you dear listener, accept my humble apology. | |
| You may think | |
| I' m some jive folk singer, no, | |
| I' m a master in the art of criminology. | |
| BreakSo I got off a plane in | |
| Nigeria, it was 1969. | |
| Arrested by | |
| Ton Ton Macoute. | |
| Taking photos was a war zone crime, they were going to hack me up with machetesa | |
| US ambassador come home paid my bribe | |
| So I played guitar with | |
| Victor Uwaifoand taught a little criminology on the side | |
| Yeah that' s my story and | |
| I' m sticking to it | |
| No regrets, no surrender, no apology | |
| I know a little bit about a lot of things | |
| I' m a master in the art of criminology | |
| Yeah that' s my story and | |
| I' m sticking to it | |
| No regrets, no surrender, no apology | |
| I know a little bit about a lot of things | |
| I' m a master in the art of criminology | |
| No regrets, no surrender, no apology | |
| I know a little bit about a lot of things | |
| I' m a master in the art of criminologycriminologycriminologycriminology |
| I had a gun pointed at my head on several occasions, | |
| Yeah Nadine | |
| I was scared. | |
| Something about a black man with a machine gun make you wish you said your prayers, | |
| It was Nigeria, the year was 1969 | |
| I was teaching criminology, playing a little guitar on the side. | |
| In Apache | |
| Pass, Prince | |
| Rupert, Injun | |
| Jack puts a gun to my head | |
| He said ' how do you like it now gentlemen? | |
| How' s your blue eyed boy | |
| Mr Dead? It was | |
| Canada this time, the year was 1971 | |
| I was performing at the club | |
| ZanzibarIn the neon world of knives and guns | |
| Oh excuse me if | |
| I' m boring you dear listener, accept my humble apology. | |
| You may think | |
| I' m just a folk singer, no, | |
| I' m a master in the art of criminology. | |
| When Picasso died, the | |
| Indians cried in a | |
| Prince George motel room. | |
| We were drunker than a thousand white men playing lumber camp saloon. | |
| It was Canada again, the year was 1973 | |
| There were grizzly bears walking down main street | |
| What an amazing sight to see. well the devil rides a cubist horse, the devil he' s got anglesbut | |
| God is an expressionist, he got the devil strangled down in purgatorian limbo in hell | |
| Ahh them southern rip joints just like that | |
| God' s waiting room is full of painters and poetsand old black jazz saints in pork pie hats | |
| Oh excuse me if | |
| I' m boring you dear listener, accept my humble apology. | |
| You may think | |
| I' m some jive folk singer, no, | |
| I' m a master in the art of criminology. | |
| BreakSo I got off a plane in | |
| Nigeria, it was 1969. | |
| Arrested by | |
| Ton Ton Macoute. | |
| Taking photos was a war zone crime, they were going to hack me up with machetesa | |
| US ambassador come home paid my bribe | |
| So I played guitar with | |
| Victor Uwaifoand taught a little criminology on the side | |
| Yeah that' s my story and | |
| I' m sticking to it | |
| No regrets, no surrender, no apology | |
| I know a little bit about a lot of things | |
| I' m a master in the art of criminology | |
| Yeah that' s my story and | |
| I' m sticking to it | |
| No regrets, no surrender, no apology | |
| I know a little bit about a lot of things | |
| I' m a master in the art of criminology | |
| No regrets, no surrender, no apology | |
| I know a little bit about a lot of things | |
| I' m a master in the art of criminologycriminologycriminologycriminology |
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