paroles de chanson Johnny Behind the Deuce - Lydia Lunch

Johnny had a habit
Didn't stand a chance
Walked right up behind him
Shot him in the back

Johnny had a habit
Turning skin to black and blue
Irish fists bush into lips
Fractured wrists and fingertips
Anything to get a kick
Slits his belly with a blade
Argues that he's not insane
Jesus' wounds made him a saint

Johnny liked to play roulette
Gambled on the losing bet
Win or lose it's all the same
Claims it's how you play the game

Johnny had a hard on
Booze and broads were both to blame
Screwed into forgetfullness
Big-lipped chicks who fought to main
Weren't afraid of dirty games
Wet his bed with gunshot stains
What is love without the pain

Johnny had it coming
Didn't stand a chance
Laid right down beside him
Shot him in the back