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we walk the streets at night
we go where eagles dare
they pick up every movement
they pick up every loser
with jaded eyes and features
you think they really care?
i ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
you better think about it baby
i ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
you better think about it baby, babe
an omelet of disease awaits your noontime meal
her mouth of germicide seducing all your glands
i ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
you better think about it baby
i ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
you better think about it baby, babe
let's test your threshold of pain
let's see how long you last
that's happened in your rape
on bosoms of your past
with jaded eyes and features
you think they really care
let's go where eagles dare
let's go where eagles dare
i ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
you better think about it baby
i ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
you better think about it baby
i ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
you better think about it baby
i ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
you better think baby, babe, babe, babe
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Everyday it comes my way in different shapes & forms.
Greed, hate & jealousy, the faces it adorns.
And though I walk the valley in the shadow of my deeds,
Consideration's always dead; the ends to meet the needs.
I give you money, you give me death.
You think it's funny, I gasp for breath.
Tompkins Square is everywhere, it's written on the walls
They'll suffocate yer real estate and grab you by yer balls
My life is such a living hell, a squatted rotted empty shell
No mistakes to learn
I give you money, you give me death.
You think it's funny, I gasp for breath.
Watch a cop for us today, an opiate, a new decay,
Your breathing stops this dying day.
The bigtime, it killed Crusty Dave.
We're all alone, we miss his heat,
And now I feel so incomplete.
The death he tasted was so sweet,
From womb to tomb, the rotting meat!
I give you money, you give me death.
You think it's funny, I gasp for breath.
I give you money, you give me death.
You think it's funny, I gasp for breath.
I give you money, you give me death.
You think it's funny, I gasp for breath.
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I'm a poor boy born in a rut
Some say my manners ain't the best
Some of my friends have been in a whole lot of trouble
and some say I'm no better than the rest
But tell your momma and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white
Everyday I work hard
At night I spend restless time
Those rich kids and all their lazy money
They can't hold a candle to mine
So tell your momma and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white
Good guys, bad guys
Which is which?
The white collar worker
Or the digger of the ditch?
Man, who's to say who's the better man?
I'm doing the very best I can
Best I can
You thought I had a dirty mind
All those messed up chicks
Of the changing times
Love-filled and easy living
Can't come close
To the love that I've given
So tell your momma and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white
They don't wear white
They don't wear white
They don't wear white
They don't wear white
...One more time!
Good guys don't wear white
They don't wear white
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