Third Degree

Got me accused of peeping, I can't see a thing
Got me accused of petting, I can't even raise my hand

Bad luck, bad luck is killing me
Well I just can't stand no more of this third degree

Got me accused of murder, I ain't harmed a man
Got me accused of forgery, I can't even write my name

Bad luck, bad luck is killing me
Well I just can't stand no more of this third degree

Got me accused of taxes, I ain't got a dime
Got me accused of children, and ain't nary one of them was mine

Bad luck, bad luck is killing me
Well I just can't stand no more of this third degree


fuente : Songteksten.nl

idioma : Inglés
Atmósfera : Yearning; Freewheeling; Rousing; Gritty; Slick; Brooding; Angst-Ridden; Searching; Nocturnal; Greasy
Tema : Feeling Blue; Late Night; Reflection; Cool & Cocky; Night Driving; Despair; Guys Night Out; Hanging Out; Partying; Drinking; Regret; Destiny; Road Trip
Estilo : Album Rock; Hard Rock; Blues-Rock; Modern Electric Blues; British Blues; Regional Blues