
متن موزیک
Went out of town on the 249
Beled recognition up in New York town
You see me and my boys got a rock and roll band
Think we're so damn good, gonna rip up the land, yeah
Well we got ups, we got downs
We gonna get so high when the sun goes down
I got an ego that can't be abused
I got my two tone shoes and I can sing the blues
Look out kid, it's the FBI
We got a file on you three feet high
Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face
And put your money where your mouth is or get out this place
But New York town didn't need our sound
We got a thousand bands say they're underground
Well way down in New Orleans it's the same old thing
Commercial music, get out of your thing
Well Arkansas finally gave us a show
We played from five till nine and there from ten till four
Played upside down, we played inside out
Then the uniformed animals started to shout
Look out kid, it's the FBI
We got a file on you three feet high
Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face
And put your money where your mouth is or get out this place
Get hungry, I wanted a woman
Can't get a smell 'cause my nose is blocked
And I'm so wired I can't believe it
Hotel girls are knocking on my door
Two nights of sin at the Holiday Inn
Left two polks mad, oh what a slag
Memphis to Maine, it's no city son
Mr. McCaughey with a band on the run
Look out kid, it's the FBI
We got a file on you three feet high
Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face
And put your money where your mouth is or get out this place












































