paroles de chanson Nice Guys (Don't Get Paid) - Soul Asylum

Well they packed up their violin cases?
Hopped in a big black Studebaker, they were acting pretty scary
No one talked as they synchronized their watches
And they drove past a train station
The train rolled out with a passenger car
Filled with retired millionaires and movie stars
? Coats
? And that would be all she wrote
And the gangsters, cowboys, gypsies, and freewheelers
Sold out their trades to become drug dealers
There ain't no money in doing things straight
Your community thanks you, business is good, and nice guys don't get paid
Outside the train window fast as he could ride
Was a kid on a horse with a head full of lies
And the tears of excitement couldn't put out the fire in his eyes
For the house he was riding to burglarize
All through the house they were dancing and singing
An extended family with fiddlers and magicians
A juggler and a chemist who'd invent potion
To pacify all the killers and rapist
The chemist died in the burglary and they sold the prescription
For a case of cheap red wine to a traveling salesman
In a three-wheeled jalopy; he bought and sold potions
To the city that looked over the ocean
And he sold the last drop, it was big with the rich kids
And soon the city would be crawling with addicts
And back rooms, dark allies, basements and attics
(When?) a fly is trapped in a spider's web (but a bat's got the spider?)
And no one knows what's going on
But you've gotta show up for yourself at the end of the day
And nice guys don't get paid
Nice guys don't get paid
Now all the hopeless romantics are wearing white collars
(Upstanding assassins?) cleaning filthy dollars
Car-jacking fanatic