Rupert Holmes — Brass Knuckles

Workin' out a homicide They told me Joe Vinelli died We'd been a team for seven years His widow wouldn't waste her tears Who'd done it, no one seemed to care 'Cause crooked cops foul up the air But since I worked so long with Joe I felt I had the right to know I found a club in Malibu He'd gone when he felt black and blue For twenty bucks in petty cash The hat-check girl spilled out some trash And in her tale, I heard a name That rang a gong to save the game A congressman named Thorley Doakes Who had a place in Sherman Oaks Step softly, gumshoe, you're outta your class You're treading mighty barefoot and there's glass in the grass Brass knuckles won't help you when your hands ain't clean Rubber hoses, broken noses are a trenchcoat scene And you ain't dressed for this affair You're breathing rarefied air Up through the luscious state, I wheeled A servant made me show my shield The congressman conversed with me He flashed his smile convincingly He said he'd not a thing to hide Which told me right away he lied 'Cause how could he afford the rent Unless he's somewhat overspent? Then down the stairs came Mrs. Doakes The kind that takes off ermine cloaks She'd left her furs upon her bed And slipped on angel lace instead Her husband left to get a drink Her eyes sped up the way I think I figured Doakes had murdered Joe When blackmailed for his needing dough Brass knuckles, copper, you've fallen in love You're near the rim of hell, but you see heaven above Brass knuckles won't fail you, but the light touch will Pistol holder, chip on shoulder with your guts set to spill You think that justice owes you thanks You brain is loaded with blanks The angel fell heavenly She sank her body into me My double-breasted suit fit fine Her form aligned itself with mine I warned her I'd an agile brain I spelled the truth out clean and plain I'd have to take her husband in that night I hoped he'd come without a fight That's when the angel stole my gun And said, "I hate to spoil your fun" Then laughing, she explained to me The murderer was none but she A love affair with Joe had tired And six shots into him, she'd fired The congressman, a jerk like me Had covered up to keep her free So goodbye, shamus, I'll aim for the chest The bullet oughta enter near the top of your vest You lost your heart already, so you won't feel the pain Brass knuckles, brass knuckles and a brass-headed brain Take a breath, prepare to crash You'll see a bright, blinding flash