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