Saturday Night Special

One, two, one, two, three

Two feets they come a-creepin'
Like a black cat do
And two bodies are layin' naked
A creeper think he got nothin' to lose

So he creeps into this house, yeah
And unlocks the door
And as a man's reaching for his trousers
He shoots him full of 38 holes

Mister Saturday Night Special
Got a barrel that's blue and cold
That ain't good for nothin'
But puttin' men six feet in a hole

Big Jim's been drinking whiskey
And playing poker on a losing night
And pretty soon, ol' Jim starts a-thinkin'
"Oh, somebody been cheatin' and lyin'"

So Big Jim commence to fighting
I wouldn't tell you no lie
Big Jim done pulled his pistol
He shot his friend right between the eyes

Mister Saturday Night Special
Got a barrel that's blue and cold
That ain't good for nothin'
But puttin' men six feet in a hole

Oh, that's the Saturday Night Special
For 20 dollars, you can buy yourself one too

Here it comes

Oh, lemme tell you all about it

Hand guns are made for killin'
They ain't no good for nothin' else
And if you like to drink your whiskey
You might even shoot yourself

So why don't we dump 'em, people
To the bottom of the sea
Before some old fool come around here
Wanna shoot either you or me?

Mister Saturday Night Special
You got a barrel that's blue and cold
You ain't good for nothin'
But puttin' men six feet in a hole

It's the Saturday Night Special
And I'd like to tell you what you could do with it too

And that's the end of the song



Credits
Writer(s): Ronnie Van Zant, Edward C. King
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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