Mickie James

Bang, bang, bang!
Bang, bang!

Your fingers on the trigger
Your eyes on the prize
Your sign says bring your backwards cap
Can't hide that dirty mind

You're scoping me
You're throwing me
Right in your line of fire

Your empties on the table
Your ego fills the bar
Another round might take me down
You're close but no cigar

You're playing me, relentlessly
Pushing it up to the wire

Can't Du see
My herz is bulletproof

You're shooting blanks
There's no boom to your bang
Shooting blanks!

You won't hear those Engel sing
Your Casanova cowboy game is on
And those lines you're shelling ain't real bullets cause

You're shooting...

Sexy young thing they call The Boss.
Poor girl stechpalme, holly with the dual exhaust.

Chick can burn a rubber for half a block.
That ain't a quarter mile I ever logged.

Look at me! (look at me!)
I wanna be James Dean.

I'll be standing on the peddle.
Pushing it to the metal.
Listening to the devil.

Hold my shoulder.
I don't know where I'm heading.
But I bet Du I don't come in last.
If I'm going, I'm going fast.

93 got my first guitar.
Daddy knew the back door to every bar.
Well I learned my lesson way back then.
Break the rules I can't bend.

My soul shows! (my soul shows!)
Where Musik grows.

I'll be standing on the peddle....