The Cockeyed Lowlife of the Highlands

Lyrics

Hey, I said Marjorie She made a fool outta me She drove the getaway car to the highlands She would not even let me out Says we're good to trot And these wheels are hot Just roll 'em off a mountain high And we're off scot-free Get your hands where I can see them Get down on that floor Get the dollar bills in the bag And Honey bastard working on the safe door Marjorie, I tell ya That I love you, babe But it seems you're shaking, shaking, shaking so bad The pigs are gonna track us with a Richter scale The pigs are gonna track us with a Richter scale The pigs are gonna track us With a Richter scale She says I'm scared out of my mind The inbreds here are gonna tan our hides I ain't no Bonnie and you ain't no Clyde So I said come on in the backseat and talk to me I need a fix, looks like you need three I got the hypo out, pulled my belt buckle tight There was a flash and a burn and when my ears returned I stared up into the light and died Oh, Marjorie, my babe Ain't we having fun? I get some sleep done in the backseat there You take the wheel and the big old gun Just take the wheel and the big old gun Just take the wheel And the big old gun Marjorie, I tell ya That I love you, babe But you didn't have to go and pull that trigger Put me in my early grave P-P-Put me in my early grave Oh, put me in my early grave Yeah, put me in my early grave