Kevin Higgins In Jail
Markin’ time on this concrete wall, seems like it wasn’t all that long
She caught my eye with her devilish grin, every pistol needs a firing pin.
She said she loved me ‘cos I was dangerous,
Got my thick skin ‘cos my dad liked to get drunk and beat me up.
She came from money and it made her mean, the bad apple and the demon seed.
We were hard as nails, but it’s me who’s gonna rot in jail.
I remember the night we met, I clocked her boyfriend and off we went.
Four-wheelin’ on her daddy’s ranch, then she put that nine-millimeter in my hand.
We popped off a few rounds at the stars, lying naked on the hood of her Dodge.
Then she got that crazy look in her eyes
said, “let’s go rob the liquor store tonight.”
We were hard as nails, but it’s me who’s gonna rot in jail.
Not for the money, we did it for the thrill
Shoutin’, “Don’t act stupid and nobody gets killed.”
For eighty dollars and a gallon of wine,
Surveillance cameras captured my good side.
She turned me in just to save her own skin,
Creamy thighs turnin’ state’s evidence.
Her daddy’s lawyers said I slapped her around,
I got a guilty verdict and the gavel came down.
We were hard as nails, but it’s me who’s gonna rot in jail.
Yes, it’s me who’s gonna rot in jail.
Markin’ time on this concrete wall, up for parole, well, maybe next fall.
When they ask me if I’ve been reformed,
I’ll say, “Y’all let me out so I can strangle that whore.”
Whoa… baby, baby, baby, she’s so damn cold.
(I’m in jail, mama… I keep her picture in my cell, mama.)
I’m in jail…I’m in jail
And I’ll see her in hell.
© Kevin James Higgins, 2003