Sinatra’s Bones

26, 27 Oct 08

I got a stomp-rack Hackensack fight-back letter in the mail
I got five clear days to bust my lady from the county jail
Bought pick and shovel, soap and razors from the store
Got to get my lady back before she sings no more

She made the A.B. chain break clean upon the stroke of five
We hit the hoedown south all crazy just to be alive
She said percs and pruno ain’t gonna fix my jones
I got to get a taste – I’m digging up Sinatra’s bones

We’re digging up Sinatra’s bones
Yes we’re digging up Sinatra’s bones
Right side radio and left against the wheel
You can’t ride the road without steel

She said for six smack months I’m jiving to the jailhouse junk
The smoke you sent I stashed it up my suitcase trunk
So I got the gear if you got the skin to get ripped
I’m clinging to the rope – I’m raiding Frankie Albert’s crypt

You take the one bone black and two bones right behind the eyes
You lock the 88 blind Sinatra bone between your lady’s thighs
She’s got the song and you’re gonna work that croon
And the Chairman of the Board he’s counting in that flatback tune

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