Now George was a good straight boy to begin with
But there's bad blood in him some way
He got into the magic bullets that lead straight to the devil's work
Just like marijuana leads to heroin
You think you can take them bullets and leave em
do ya?
Just save a few for your bad days?
Well we all have those bad days when we can't hit for shit
And the more of them magics you use
The more bad days you have without em
Till it comes down finally
to all your days bein' bad without the bullets
And it's time to stop shittin' around and kiddin' yourself
Kid, you're hooked
Heavy as lead.
And that's where ol' George found himself out there at the Crossroads
Moldin' the devil's bullets
Now, a man figures it's his bullets
And he'll take what he wants
And it don't always work out that way
You see, some bullets are special for a certain target
a certain stag
a certain person
And no matter where you're aimin',
that's where the bullet'll end up
And in the moment of aimin'
The gun turns into a dowser's wand
And points where the bullet wants to go.
George Schmidt was movin' in a series of convulsive spasms
like someone in an epileptic fit
His face contorted and his eyes wild
like a lasso'd horse
Bracin' his legs!
But somethin' kept pullin' him on
Now he's pickin' up the skulls and makin' a circle
I guess ol' George didn't rightly know what he was gettin' himself into
The fit was on him
And carried him right to the Crossroads
Laaahoooooo! |