Sleep-

ing

ve-

ry

sound-

ly

on

a

Sa-

tur-

day

morn-

ing,

I

was

dream-

ing

I

was

Al

Ca-

pone.

Ru-

mours

go-

ing

round,

got-

ta

clear

out

of

town,

Smell-

ing

like

a

dry

fish-

bone.

Here

come

the

law,

gon-

na

break

down

the

door,

Car-

ry

me

a-

way

once

more.

Nev-

er,

nev-

er,

nev-

er

want

it

an-

y-

more,

Got-

ta

get

a-

way

from

this

stone

cold

flo-

or.

Cra-

zy,

stone

cold

cra-

zy,

you

know.

Rain-

y

af-

ter-

noon,

on

a

kill-

er

ty-

phoon,

And

she's

play-

ing

on

my

slide

trom-

bone.

A-

ny-

more,

a-

ny-

more,

can-

not

take

it

a-

ny-

more,

Got-

ta

get

a-

way

from

this

stone

cold

flo-

o-

or.

Cra-

zy,

stone

cold

cra-

zy,

you

know.

Hey!

Walk-

ing

down

the

street,

shoot-

ing

peop-

le

that

I

meet,

Ful-

ly

load-

ed

Tom-

my

gun.

Here

come

the

de-

pu-

ty,

he

try

fuck-

ing

gett-

ing

me,

Got-

ta

fuck-

ing

get

up

and

run.

They

got

the

si-

rens

loose,

I

run-

nin

right

out

of

juice.

They're

gon-

na

put

me

in

a

cell,

If

I

can't

go

to

heav-

en,

let

me

go

to

he-

ell.

Cra-

zy,

stone

cold

cra-

zy,

you

know,

yeah.