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| B.B. King Let The Good Times Roll Jack, You're Dead! When you've got no more assurance Than a great big hunk of lead If you don't respond to romance Jack, you're dead! When a chick is smiling at you Even though there's nothing said If you stand there like a statue Jack, you're dead! You've been always kicking But you stubbed your toes When you ups and kicks the bucket Just like old man mose When you get no kicks from loving And you blow your top instead It's a fact that you ain't living Jack, you're dead! If you just ain't got nobody Since you've gone and lost your head Rigor mortis has set in daddy Jack, you're dead! What's the use of having muscles When your life hangs by a thread If you ain't got no red corpuscles Jack, you're dead! You've been always kicking But you stubbed your toes When you ups and kicks the bucket Just like old man mose When you get no kicks from loving And the news begins to spread All the cats will holler, "murder!" Jack, you're dead! All the breaths leaked out of you When your friends gather round the bed And look at you and say, "um, um, um, don't he look natural" When that happens to you, daddy Jack, you're dead! |
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