Select language to translate this lyric
Got me accused of peeping
I can't see a thing
Got me accused of petting
I can't even raise my hand
Oh, ho, oh, oh
Oh, ho, bad luck, it's killing me
Call, yes, it is
Oh, yes, it is
Well, I just can't stand it no more
No more of this third degree
I was third degree
Got me accused of murder
I ain't harmed no man now, oh
Got me accused of forgery
I can't even write my name
Bad luck call, I know, yeah
Bad luck, oh no
Well, it's killing me
Killing me, killing me, yes, it is
Whoa, I just can't stand it, oh no
No more of this third degree
Third degree
Hey, now
Got me accused of taxes
I ain't got a lousy dime
Got me accused of children
[Incomprehensible]
Bad luck, no
Bad luck, oh, it's killing me
Killing me, killing me
Yeah, it's killing me
Well, I just, well, I just can't stand
No more of this third degree
Whoa, oh no
No more
- Album:
- Soundcheck
- Still Climbing
- Unusual Suspects
- Miscellaneous
- Non-Album Releases
- Shrapnel Records Presents: The Best of Modern Blues
- Leslie West Live!
- People Get Ready
- Mountain
- The Leslie West Band / The Great Fatsby
- Blood of the Sun 1969-75
- Alligator
- Night of the Guitar
- Guitarded
- Got Blooze
- Theme
- As Phat As It Gets
- Live
- Leslie West Collection
- Fresh Blues, Volume 4: The Inak Blues Connection