Chicken

She saw me walking down the streets of your fine city Wherever we are right now Kinda turned me on when she looked at me and said Whatever people say around here I don't usually talk to strangers That’s a bold faced lie I talk to strangers all the time Well, that's most of my life She took me out where the streetlights were placed a little further apart I've walked around for about forty years and seen a lot of people Some of them have impressed me, but not that much And I said: "Who do I talk to here? What race of man is this? I got problems baby, I got complaints" She looked up at the hotel behind me and her eyes got big like dinner plates, she said: Baby get your torch and your pitchforks out Hate to be a chicken when the wolves come out Hate to be the middle when the bottom drops out She started pulling stuff out from behind the camera A case of glue and a stick of dynamite It was right about then that I realised this whole time I’d thought that this was a joke or a metaphor or something But this ain't joking time This isn't private school Where you think they got those night sticks and hats She said look around Harry, half the people talking right past each other Half the people just sitting back She said: Baby get your torch and your pitchforks out Hate to meet your Maker in the big boy town How was she riding a motorcycle [ ?] How was she riding a motorcycle? And how come I don't know how to do that? Baby get your torch and your pitchforks out Hate to crash a party like a single male Hate to meet your Maker in the big boy town Hate to be the middle when the bottom drops out Baby get your torch and your pitchforks out Hate to crash a party like a single male Hate to meet your Maker in the big boy town Hate to be the middle when the bottom drops out Hate to be a chicken when the wolves come out Baby get your torch and your pitchforks out Hate to crash a party like a single male Hate to meet your Maker in the big boy town Hate to be a chicken when the wolves come out