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Jockey Full Of Bourbon Tom Waits
[am]Edna Millon in a drop dead suit
Dutch pink in a [E7]downtown train
Two dollar pistol, but the gun won't shoot
I'm in the corner in the [am]pouring rain
16 men on a deadman's chest
And I've been drinking from a [E7]broken cup
Two pair of pants and a mohair vest
I'm full of burbon; I [am]can't stand up
[dm]Hey little bird, fly [am]away home
Your [E7]house is on fire; [am]your children are alone
[dm]Hey little bird, fly [am]away home
Your [E7]house is on fire; [am]your children are alone
Schiffer broke a bottle on Morgans head
And I've been stepping on the devils tail
Across the stripes of a full moons head
Through the bars of a Cuban jail
Bloody fingers on a purple knife
A flamingo drinking from a cocktail glass
I'm on the lawn with someone else's wife
Come admire the view from upon the top of the mast
Chorus
Yellow sheets in a Hong Kong bed
Stayzbo horn and a Singerland slide
To the carnival is what she said
A hundred dollars makes it dark inside
16 men on a deadman's chest
And I've been drinking from a broken cup
Two pair of pants and a mohair vest
I'm full of burbon; I can't stand up
Morten Sickel
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