King Creole

KING CREOLE

There's a king, in New-Orleans,

Playing guitar like a Tommy gun,

Oh yeah.

Remeber the days, when he drove fast

cars,

Soaring his **, now for where the good

Times are.

Fooling around with a nasty crowd,

Well he just don't care, cos he only dares, to

drink alone tonight.

Oh yeah, alright.

He lost himself in a dead-end street,

Nodody really liked him in New-orleans.

There was a king, in New-Orleans,

Playing guitar like a son of a gun, oh yeah.