King Creole
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There's a king, in New-Orleans,
Playing guitar like a Tommy gun,
Oh yeah.
Remeber the days, when he drove fast
cars,
Soaring his dope, now for where the good
Times are.
Fooling around with a nasty crowd,
Well he just don't care, cos he only dares, to
drink alone tonight.
Oh yeah, alright.
He lost himself in a dead-end street,
Nodody really liked him in New-orleans.
There was a king, in New-Orleans,
Playing guitar like a son of a gun, oh yeah.