T-bone Billy just a singin' the blues

Caught his lady with another man

Lit up a smoke and did some talkin'

With the back of his hand



She started shakin', started losing her mind

But he was kicking back and playing it cool

Signed her walkin' papers 

Took the 5:15 to Kalamazoo



Sing for your supper,

Nobody rides for free

Eat your heart out, I'll send it C.O.D.



One, two baby what you do

Three, four let me show you the door

You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me

Five, six take your last licks

Seven, eight let me give it to you straight

You're better off dead than makin a mess of me



Now Billy-boy's out havin' a ball playin' fiddle at the local bar

Dark shades, cool kicks, he's Hollywood Blvd.

Slick Daddy and his fat cigar sayin':

"Sign upon the dotted line!"

He shook his head and said:

"All I need is that fiddle of mine!"



Sing for your supper,

Nobody rides for free

Take your big time, I'll take care of me



One, two baby what you do

Three, four let me show you the door

You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me

Five, six take your last licks

Seven, eight let me give it to you straight

You're better off dead than makin a mess of me



When trouble came knockin'

Billy kep-a-rockin' like this...



Sing for your supper,

Nobody rides for free

Eat your heart out, I'll send it C.O.D.



One, two baby what you do

Three, four let me show you the door

You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me

Five, six take your last licks

Seven, eight let me give it to you straight

You're better off dead than makin a mess of me



One, two baby what you do

Three, four let me show you the door

You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me

Five, six take your last licks (lick it)

Seven, eight let me give it to you straight

You're better off dead than makin a mess of me