Yeah...
I like it...
Uh-huh...
Oh!
[Instrumental]
Got me accused of peeping
I can't see a thing
Got me accused of petting
I can't even raise my hand
Bad luck
Bad luck is killing me
Well I just can't stand
No more of this third degree
Got me accused of murder
I ain't harmed a man
Got me accused of forgery
I can't even write my name
Bad luck
Bad luck is killing me (it's killing me)
Well I just can't stand
No more of this third degree
Can't stand this third degree
[Instrumental]
Yeah!
That's what I'm talkin' about!
[Instrumental]
Got me accused of taxes
I don't have a lousy dime
Got me accused of children
And ain't nary one of them mine
Bad luck
Bad luck is killing me
Well I just can't stand
No more of this third degree
[Instrumental]
No more of this third degree, oh no!
Yeah...
