Lyrics
The D.A. is dressed to the nines
In the mirror he practices all his lines
To his closing argument twelve hearts beat in favor
I'm guessing that he read the morning paper
The headline reads: "The man hangs, but the jury doesn't."
And everybody's looking for relief
The United States versus disbelief
Mothers cast tears on both sides of the aisle
From face to wall the body falls like bachelors or bad luck girls
Only breathing with the aid of the knife
Case open, case shut
But you could pay to close it like a casket
Baby boy can't lift his headache head
Isn't it tragic?
He glances at his pew seating seven to twelve stacked
On one to six the gallery is hushed
Boys in three pieces dream of girls' daring and bravado
The city streets in a cell not withstanding what we all know
Hang on the rope of baited breath
Whichever you prefer
And everyone's looking for relief
A bidding war for an old friend's grief
The calls for chique, the calls for charm
Another girl that's not aware but that can make you comprehend
Too well dressed for the witness stand
The best place for whichever headlines run
Case open, case shut
But you could pay to close it like a casket
Baby boy can lift his headache head
Isn't it tragic?
First class suit and tie
I'm desperate
Sing and die
Can talk my way out of anything
The foreman reads the verdict and the above-entitled actions
We find the defendant (guilty)
Case open, case shut
But you could pay to close it like a casket
Baby boy can left his headache head
Isn't it tragic?
Case open, case shut
That you could be the cause of that casket
Baby boy can left his head and he cares
Isn't it tragic?
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