Private Dick

With a cheap export dangling straight from her lips
And you know she's dressed in black
And of course she's made of money
She wants me to find her husband
Who's maybe dead
Two thousand dollars later I'm out on the street
Looking for clues

I stop in a bar, to think with a drink
If I was a dead man, where would I be?
When it hits me like a cast iron pan
She's setting me up to be her hitman (be her hitman)

Fuck it, I live in a dump
Killing someone ain't much of a jump
A pricey tip says he's having a tryst
In a corrugated shack off Townsend and Fifth
I go down there, find him in the sack
With a Filipino girl lying dеad on her back
(Lying dead, dead on hеr back)
(Lying dead, dead on her back)

I chase him, I chase him
From shack to shack
But he eludes me when I'm stopped in my tracks
By a headless chicken that looks like a rat
I have to have a cigarette and think about that
When the day finally turns to black
I head back to my place with the bottle in a brown sack
What do you think I find in my bed?
The man is dead eyes rolled back in his head
(Eyes rolled, rolled back)
(Eyes rolled, rolled back)
(Eyes rolled, rolled back)

Even though I never had no clues
And you know I never had no clues
Never, never had no clues

Back to my office looking to split
Ripped by the cabbie but I know he'll get it in the end
Up to the elevator and through the door
And there she is with her cheap export
And a cold gray gun
Pointed straight at me
"Bang, bang" goes the gun
I go down the song is over

And you know I never had a clue
And you know I never had a clue
And you know I never had a clue
And you know I never had no clue

(Never had no clue)