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Текст песни Makin A Mess
T-bone Billy just a singin' the blues Caught his lady with another man Lit up a smoke and did some talkin' With the back of his hand 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 Eat your heart out, I'll send it C.O.D. One, two baby what you do Three, four let me show you the door You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me Five, six take your last licks Seven, eight let me give it to you straight You're better off dead than makin a mess of me Now Billy-boy's out havin' a ball playin' fiddle at the local bar Dark shades, cool kicks, he's Hollywood Blvd. Slick Daddy and his fat cigar sayin': "Sign upon the dotted line!" He shook his head and said: "All I need is that fiddle of mine!" Sing for your supper, Nobody rides for free Take your big time, I'll take care of me One, two baby what you do Three, four let me show you the door You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me Five, six take your last licks Seven, eight let me give it to you straight You're better off dead than makin a mess of me When trouble came knockin' Billy kep-a-rockin' like this... Sing for your supper, Nobody rides for free Eat your heart out, I'll send it C.O.D. One, two baby what you do Three, four let me show you the door You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me Five, six take your last licks Seven, eight let me give it to you straight You're better off dead than makin a mess of me One, two baby what you do Three, four let me show you the door You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me Five, six take your last licks (lick it) Seven, eight let me give it to you straight You're better off dead than makin a mess of me