She played for the angels

I played for the tribe

The summer had been stolen

And the faces were all lonely

There was big money on the line

Big money on the line, yeah

There was big money on the line



I can't walk so I guess I'm gonna stay at home

They can have my legs just leave my mail alone



I was in the kitchen

The year was in the fall

A friend of mine told me

That there weren't no point in moaning

No there weren't no point at all

There's big fire in the hall, yeah

There weren't no points at all



I can't walk so I guess I'm gonna stay at home

They can have my legs just leave my mail alone

And I can't talk so I guess I got nothing to say

I'll keep my eyes just take these tears away



Lock, stock and barrel

All the dogs had gone infertile

And the car ran like a broken perculator

His liver had gone hard

And he wouldn't mow the yard

There was big money on the line



And I heard that his brother was a bikie

He liked to solve a problem with a gun

If you want to know the facts

You've gotta teach them how to act

And I hate cough syrup

Don't you?



I'd rather be a sailor than a fighter

I'd like to sail a ship into the sun

If you wanna know the truth

You gotta dig up Johnny Booth

And I hate cough syrup

Don't you?



I know your mother is a martyr

I've heard she's got connections with the mob

If you wanna learn to fight

You've gotta drink up all the white

And I hate cough syrup

Don't you?



I'd rather be a matchstick than a lighter

I like to see the wood curl up and burn

If you wanna touch the sky

You must be prepared to die

And I hat