Saturday Night Special (Live)

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

An' as the 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

It ain't good for nothing but puttin' men six feet in a hole

Big Jim's been drinking whiskey

And playing poker on a losing night

An' pretty soon Ol' Jim starts a-thinkin'

Somebody been cheatin' and lyin'

So Big Jim commence to fighting

I wouldn't tell you no lie

Big Jim done pulled his pistol

Shot his friend right between the eyes

Mister Saturday Night Special

Got a barrel that's blue and cold

It ain't good for nothing but puttin' men six feet in a hole

Hmm and that's the Saturday Night Special

For twenty dollars you can buy yourself one too

Here it come

Oh lemme tell you all about it

Hand guns are made for killing

They ain't no good for nothing 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 nothing but puttin' men six feet in a hole

It's a Saturday Night Special

And I'd like to tell you what you can do with it too

And that's the end of this song