Makin a Mess Live at the Marquee Westminster CA 4/28/89
This sound motherfuckers
Alright Marquee, are you ready for some dirty rock and roll?
Please welcome, from the gutters of New Jersey, Skid Row

Oh yeah, alright
T-bone Billy just a singin' the blues
He caught his lady with another man
Lit up a smoke and did some talkin’
With the back of his hand
Smack

She started shakin', started losing her mind
But he was kicking back and playing it cool
Signed her walkin' papers
Took the 5:15 to Kalamazoo

Sing for your supper
Nobody rides for free
Eat your heart out, I’ll send it C.O.D

One, two, baby what you do
Three, four, let me show you the door
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
Five, six, take your last licks
Seven, eight, I'll give it to you straight
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me
Now Billy-boy's out havin' a ball playin' fiddle at the local bar
Dark shades, cool kicks, he’s Hollywood Blvd
Slick Daddy with his fat cigar he’s sayin':
"Sign upon the dotted line"

He shook his head and said:
"All I need is that fiddle of mine"

Sing for your supper
Nobody rides for free
Take your big time, I’ll take care of me, me, yeah

One, two, baby what you do
Three, four, let me show you the door
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
Five, six, take your last licks
Seven, eight, let me give it to you straight
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me

I said, trouble came knockin’
But Billy keeps rockin' like this

Sing for your supper
Nobody rides for free
Take your big time, I'll take care of me, me, yeah
One, two, baby what you do
Three, four, let me show you the door
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
Five, six, take your last licks
Seven, eight, let me give it to you straight
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me

One, two, baby what you do, woah
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
Five, six, take your last licks (Oh lick it)
Seven, eight, let me give it to you straight
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me