Shakey Davey`s got a twelve gauge in his hand It`s sawed off to the limit He`s got a vague plan There`s this liquor store on Madison There`s another one down on Washington square He`s pretty sure no one`s ever seen him Down around there
The first one`s birdshot the next four are double aught buck The last one`s a slug just for good luck He`s got his works in his pocket He wants to score as soon as he`s done He can`t wait to get straight to get long gone
He puts on his long coat scribbles off a short note Sits himself down and waits for the sun to go down
It`s right around midnight and there`s still too damn many people on this street He`s walked all the way from Battery Park he`s got sweaty hands and burnin` feet He`s desperate for a fix His body`s screamin` "Get me high" He bursts through the door and lets one fly
Sunrise in the park and Davey`s cold as stone He got some bad merchandise and he was all alone Two more unsolved mysteries a iot of paper pushed around Most folks are just wakin` up in this great big town
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