The Cockeyed Lowlife of the Highlands

I said Marjorie
She made a fool outta me
She drove the getaway car to the highlands
And she would not even let me out
Says We are good to trot and these wheels are hot
Just roll 'em off a mountain high
And were off scot free
Get your hands where I can see 'em
Get down on that floor
Get the dollar bills in the bag
And Honey bastard working the safe door
Marjorie did tell ya that I love you babe
But it seems that your shaking so bad
Pigs are gonna track us with a Richter scale
She says im scared out of my mind
The inbreds here are gonna tan our hides
I ain't no bonnie and you ain't no clyde
So come in on the backseat and talk to me
I need a fix looks like you need three
I got my hypo out and pulled my belt buckle tight
There was a flash and a burn
And when my ears returned I stared up into the light and died.*silence*
Marjorie my babe ain't we having fun
I get some sleep in the backseat there
You take the wheel and the big old gun. *bang*
Marjorie I telly that I love ya babe
You didn’t have to pull that trigger and put me in my early grave