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wayward ones, wayward ones,

we must keep on.

or who will be left 

to Raise Hell?

wayward ones, wayward ones

sing us a song.

these spirits ain't

liftin' themselves...


well, come on everybody,

the bands-a-really rockin' tonight

just keep the alcohol-a-flowing

yer all gonna feel alright

and if the cops wanna come

let 'em bring it on

i got 99 problems,

but a brick ain't one


i never been the type to do

what I'm told


i hear the train-a-coming

you can hop it if you wanna,

but I wish you'd stay

and dance with me.

you know life's too short

to sit on yer front porch

and wonder about what could be.

but you'll find that if yer runnin'

you'll only get as far

as wherever you bring yer feet


so if the music's still playin'

forget about yer troubles

With me...




Wayward Ones, Wayward Ones...

just come on with us...

Let's Raise Hell





dead red roses been on my mind,

but my blues look more like violets

in the summer's shine,

and as i write each tattered page,

i see not all wounds heal with age.

it seems the only thing

i should get used to

in this life is heartache




that's why we keep on singin' these songs

it's all that keeps us hanging on

somewhere in between

these major and minor chords

i found freedom

and, baby, i want some more


we sure don't do it for the dough,

just know a song and a dance

can save a soul

and since the fat cats

know only 'bout the scratch

we'll be playing every week

down at the laundromat

and if you wanna throw us quarters

to use the hot water

we sure would appreciate that.




my heroes will never die

not as long as they're keepin'

punks like me alive

and if this punk ain't dead quite yet

he's gonna rock on into the sunset.

and all that we'll be needin'

to keep us breathin'

is more coffee

and more cigarettes.






i hope

they cannot figure out where i have went

or to the joint i surely will be sent

or i'll have to change my name, maybe my nose

or hope this piece of shit car makes it all the way to mexico


the swamp's humid and damp

and the gators are so mean

there's algae growing

all over my jeans

i try to convince myself that

everything's alright

but the pig frogs tell me i'm lying


a life on the lamb

ain't really half bad

but hiding out in this swamp

turned out to be a drag

now i sit and soak and fantasize

of life on the run

finding a bonnie for this clyde

and we could have so much fun

drivin' fast and playin' with my shiny loaded gun,

going bang, bang, bang's so much fun


well, i tried to get on the straight and narrow for a while

but each time i did it really cramped my style

i say i'll quit the pills and quit the junk,

cocaine and liquor, too

put that life of crime behind me,

say i'm through


but by now i thought i'd be

in gay paris,

but since i stopped stealin'

i'm broke

not to mention bored

and so damn paranoid

from shooting my arms

full of coc


and this swamp is atrocious

for cocaine psychosis

the bugs multiply

with each blink of my eye

and the mosquitoes are swarmin'

i'm convinced they're informants

for those who will plot my demise


now there's no cheese, and no wine,

i guess i'll wipe off this slime

and rip each last leech off my chest

i'm goin' back to bein' wicked

'cause life's better crooked

and those coppers still ain't caught me yet


so before they come,

i guess i better run


a life on the lamb

ain't really so bad,

but hidin' out in that swamp

turned out to be a drag

it's a hundred miles later,

there's no lillipads or gators

the swamp buggy i stole is mighty fast

i think that was a skunk ape i just passed

and now the county line's approaching mighty fast





you better stay away

i'll never let you in

i'll only let you get close enough,honey,

to break our hearts again and again

but it's what i wanted to be

and it's not what i wanted to do

but i'm a sick, sad, stubborn son-of-a-bitch

and a selfish stupid fool




i fear that i am doomed

to wonder alone

for all my nights and days

will i ever be

more than a memory

before the moonlight fades

i've wished on all the stars

to unchain my heart,

but i've failed to change my ways

so will i ever be

more than yer memory

before the moonlight fades


i had a bad experience

on the merry-go-round o' love

now it ain't so easy

'cause i get a little queasy

every time the word comes up,

and my heart feels lil' achy

and legs feel a lil' shaky,

and i go runnin' for my life

every goddamn night

wherever these boots will take me





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