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 hands 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, but nobod' rides for free Eat your heart out send a 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 I'm gonna 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 The dark shades, cool kicks he's the Hollywood Boulevard Slick daddy with his fat cigar sayin, 'Sign upon the dotted line' He shook his head and said, "All I need is that fiddle of mine thats all" Sing for your supper, nobod' rides for free But take your big time off so you can roll of m-m-me, m-m-me ya
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 I'm gonna give it to you straight You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
Say, trouble keeps knockin' But Billy keeps a rockin', like this
Sing for your supper, nobody rides for free
Sing for your supper, nobody rides for free Take your bits out I'll take you to m-m-me, m-m-me, m-m-me, yea
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 I'm gonna give it to you straight You're better off dead than makin' a mess of m-m-me
One, two baby what you do? You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me Five, six take your last licks You're better off dead than makin' a mess of Mess of, mess of, me, yea
Make a mess of me and you'll be the Biggest mess you may ever made, ha, ha