The words you say with your last breath and the emptiness in space I can't tell you what to do This crossroad is your own But I know what we'll become We'll be outlaws on the run Do you think about the end? Do you think about the end? (That slow last

Tell Him what you want Jesus is on that mainline Call Him up and tell Him what you want And if you're feeling down and out I know Jesus is on that mainline Well, the line ain't never busy Call Him up, call Him up, call Him up, call Him up Wo, that line

I don't care anymore, I don't care anymore I don't care anymore I don't care what you say I got better things to do with my time Well you can tell everyone I'm a down disgrace Drag my name all over the place You can tell everybody 'bout the state I'm in

In this American dream Well I guess it all depends on you Don't tell me that the sky is the limit 'Cause it ain't about what you can do It's a who knows who And your views They say the sky is the limit They said the sky is the limit And your views (in

You upsets me baby, yes, you upsets me baby Well, I tried to describe her, it's hard to start Woman, what you do to me Yes, she's 36 in the bust, 28 in the waist 44 in the hip, she got a real crazy leg Yes, I'm telling you people she's something fine

Forty-eight hours needs forty-eight Friday or Saturday, what does that mean? Short space of time needs a heavy scene Monday is coming like a jail on wheels Forty-eight thrills So tell me an' I'll take the tube You know a girl, yeah well she's bound to be

Break me down, I'm ready, break me down I know what you're thinking When the bass starts ringing Can you tell me when you're stoked to start? Are you ready for tonight, Set this shit on fire And we'll dance until we're dumb in the dark I won't forget

They say that I'm dangerous If I were to tell, they'll kill me now Well imma cut to the chase Oh oh oh oh oh oh Chica bang bang Cause I be living like a rockstar What doesn't kill you makes you stronger every time

Hello America, hello America Yeah, I'm gonna try Hollywood and San Pedro Bay I'm gonna give my love to you Well I'm takin' me a trip I'm going down to California I'll tell ya what I'm gonna do I'm gonna take you where the lights are bright I'm gonna give

That's all right. What you call me? You didn't! You don't wear continental clothes, or Stetson hats. Well I tell you one dog-gone thing. It makes me feel good to know one thing. I know I'm a lover. Matter of opinion. That's all right, Mama was. Papa too.