Stand In The Fire lyrics

So much to do, there's plenty on the farm
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Saturday night I like to raise a little harm
I'll sleep when I'm dead
I'm drinking heartbreak motor oil and Bombay gin
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Straight from the bottle, twisted again
I'll sleep when I'm dead

Well, I take this medicine as prescribed
I'll sleep when I'm dead
It don't matter if I get a little tired

I'd lay my head on the railroad tracks
And wait for the Double "E"
But the railroad don't run no more
Poor, poor pitiful me

Poor, poor pitiful me
Poor, poor pitiful me
These young girls won't let me be
Lord have mercy on me
Woe is me
Well, I met a girl in West Hollywood
I ain't naming names
She really worked me over good
She was just like Jesse James
She really worked me over good

I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand
Walking through the streets of Soho in the rain
He was looking for the place called Lee Ho Fook's
Going to get a big dish of beef chow mein
Werewolves of London
If you hear him howling around your kitchen door
Better not let him in
Little old lady got mutilated late last night
Werewolves of London again
Werewolves of London

Everybody's restless and they've got no place to go
Someone's always trying to tell them
Something they already know
So their anger and resentment flow
But don't it make you want to rock and roll
All night long
Mohammed's Radio
I heard somebody singing sweet and soulful
On the radio, Mohammed's Radio

You know, the Sheriff's got his problems too
He will surely take them out on you

I was born down by the river where the dirty water flows
And the cold wind cut through me, it cut right through my clothes
And the anger and the yearning, like fever in my veins
Set the fire burning
She came down from Knightstown with her hands hard from the line
From the first time I laid eyes on her
I knew that she'd be mine
Her father was a lawman, he swore he'd shoot me dead

Well, he went down to dinner in his Sunday best
Excitable boy, they all said
And he rubbed the pot roast all over his chest
Excitable boy, they all said
He took in the four a.m. show at the Clark
Excitable boy, they all said
And he bit the usherette's leg in the dark
Excitable boy, they all said
Well, he's just an excitable boy

He took little Suzie to the Junior Prom

Well, I went home with the waitress
The way I always do
How was I to know
She was with the Russians, too
I was gambling in Havana
I took a little risk
Send lawyers, guns and money
Dad, get me out of this

I'm the innocent bystander
Somehow I got stuck
Between the rock and the hard place
And I'm down on my luck
And I'm down on my luck
And I'm down on my luck

(Warren Zevon)
So much to do, there's plenty on the farm
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Saturday night I like to raise a little harm
I'll sleep when I'm dead
I'm drinking heartbreak motor oil and Bombay gin
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Straight from the bottle, again & again
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Well, I take this medicine as prescribed
I'll sleep when I'm dead
It don't matter if I get a little wired

(Warren Zevon)
I'd lay my head on the railroad tracks
And wait for the Double "E"
But the railroad don't run no more
Poor, poor pitiful me
Poor, poor pitiful me
Poor, poor pitiful me
These young girls won't let me be
Lord have mercy on me
Woe is me
Well, I met a girl in West Hollywood
I ain't naming names
She really worked me over good
She was just like Jesse James
She really worked me over good

(E. McDaniel, Arc Music Corp. BMI (1980?))
Here's a little story that I really want to tell
It's about Bo Diddley at the O.K Corral
Now, Bo Diddley didn't start no mess
He had a gun on his hip and a rose on his vest
'Cause Bo Diddley's a gunslinger
(Bo Diddley's a gunslinger)
Bo Diddley's a gunslinger
(Bo Diddley's a gunslinger)
Bo Diddley's a gunslinger
(Bo Diddley's a gunslinger)

(LeRoy P. Marinell, Waddy Wachtel and Warren Zevon)
I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand
Walking through the streets of Soho in the rain
He was looking for the place called Lee Ho Fook's
Going to get a big dish of beef chow mein
Werewolves of London
Werewolves of Los Angeles
If you hear him howling around your kitchen door
Better not let him in

(Warren Zevon)
It's none of my business
But if I may
Remind you of the time
When you did something you knew was wrong
It wasn't called a crime
And I'm not saying that you should give
A sucker an even break
I'm talking about the time
That you were cruel for cruelty's sake
I'm talking about the time
That you were cruel for cruelty's sake
How you gonna pay for
How you gonna pay for

(Warren Zevon)
Everybody's restless and they've got no place to go
Someone's always trying to tell them
Something they already know
So their anger and resentment flow
But don't it make you want to rock and roll
All night long
Mohammed's Radio
I heard somebody singing sweet and soulful
On the radio, Mohammed's Radio
Ayatollah's got his problems too
And even Jimmy Carter's got the highway blues

(Warren Zevon)
All you guitar players
Scalding hot
And Zeke's going at it
Givin' it everything he's got
'Cause anything goes
Whatever it takes
I might pitch a fit
But I won't put on my brakes
Stand in the fire, stand in the fire,
Stand in the fire, stand in the fire, stand in the fire
Stand in the fire, stand in the fire, stand in the fire
Stand in the fire, stand in the fire, stand in the fire

written by E. McDaniel, Arc Music Corp. BMI (1980?)

Here's a little story that I really want to tell
It's about Bo Diddley at the O.K Corral
Now, Bo Diddley didn't start no mess
He had a gun on his hip and a rose on his vest

'Cause Bo Diddley's a gunslinger
(Bo Diddley's a gunslinger)
Bo Diddley's a gunslinger
(Bo Diddley's a gunslinger)

Bo Diddley's a gunslinger