Skid Row — Makin a Mess

Oh yeah Alright 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 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's 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 Sing for your supper Nobody rides for free Take your big time I'll take care of m-m-me, m-m-me 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 You make a mess of me, it'll be the best mess you ever made, baby