Sitting in the Jail House

Sitting in the jail house
Talking to mean old man Dave
Hey, Mr. Watt, do I get my touch
I've got my life on the stake

I'll see through the bars
They'll hang me here because
Even the preacher's coming my way

My trouble started 'cause she was making eyes at me
She had one-man hips, silken hair and tender lips
She was tall and she seemed free

Then in a flash, I was in a clash
I went and killed some woman's man

Hippity ya ya
Hippity ya ya yeah
Hippity ya ya
Hippity ya ya yeah

Oh oh, oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh...

Sitting in thе jail house
Talking with the mean old flickеr Dave
Hey, Mr. Watt, do I get my touch
I've got my life on the stake

Well, I see through your eyes
It comes as no surprise
No mercy, I will die today

Oh oh, oh, oh oh oh, oh

(Oh oh oh oh...)