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Lyrics

Sleeping very soundly on a Saturday morning,
I was dreaming I was Al Capone.
Rumours going round, gotta clear out of town,
Smell like a dry fishbone.
Here come the law, gonna break down the door,
Carry me away once more.
Never, never, never want it anymore,
Gotta get away from this stone cold floor.

Crazy, stone cold crazy, you know.
Rainy afternoon, ought to kill a typhoon,

Lyrics continue below...

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And she's playing on my slide trombone.
Anymore, anymore, cannot take it anymore,
Gotta get away from this stone cold floor.
Crazy, stone cold crazy, you know.

Walking down the street, shooting people that I meet,
Fully loaded Tommy gun.

Here come the deputy
Try fucking getting me
Gotta fucking get up and run
They got the sirens loose
I ran right out of juice
They're gonna put me in a cell,
If I can't go to heaven, let me go to hell.
Crazy, stone cold crazy, you know, yeah

Writer(s): DEACON JOHN RICHARD, MAY BRIAN HAROLD, MAY BRIAN HAROLD, DEACON JOHN RICHARD

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