Makin' a Mess

Oh yeah
Alright
Break it up

T-bone Billy just a-singin' the blues
He caught his lady with another man
Lit up a smoke and did some talkin'
With the back of his hand, smack

She started shakin', started losing her mind
But he was kicking back and playing it cool
Signed her walkin' papers
Took the 5:15 to Kalamazoo

Sing for your supper
Nobody rides for free
Well, eat your heart out
I'll send it C.O.D., yeah

One, two, baby, what you do
Three, four, let me show you the door
You're better off dead than a-makin' a mess of me
Five, six, take your last licks
Seven, eight, I'm gonna give it to you straight
You're better off dead than a-makin' a mess of me

Now Billy-boy's out havin' a ball
He's playin' fiddle at the local bar
Dark shades, cool kicks
He's Hollywood Boulevard

Slick daddy with his fat cigar
He's sayin', "Sign upon the dotted line"
He shook his head and said
"All I need is that fiddle of mine, that's all"

Sing for your supper
Nobody rides for free
Take your big time
I'll take care of m-m-me, m-m-me, yeah

One, two, baby, what you do
Three, four, let me show you the door
You're better off dead than a-makin' a mess of me
Five, six, take your last licks
Seven, eight, I'm gonna give it to you straight
You're better off dead than a-makin' a mess of me

Say, trouble keeps knockin'
My Billy keeps rockin' like this, huh

If you wanna be where the rock starts, yeah

Sing for your supper
Nobody rides for free
Take your big time
I'll take care of m-m-me, m-m-me, m-m-me, yeah

One, two, baby, what you do
Three, four, let me show you the door
You're better off dead than a-makin' a mess of me
Five, six, take your last licks
Seven, eight, I'm gonna give it to you straight
You're better off dead than a-makin' a mess of m-m-m-m-me

One, two, baby, what you do, whoa
You're better off dead than a-makin' a mess of me
Five, six, take your last licks
You're better off dead than a-makin' a mess of, mess of, mess of me, yeah

You make a mess of me, it'll be the best mess you ever made, baby