Ballad Of Zero And The Tramp

John Anderson

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    Well they used to call him Zero cause he never made his mark
    And when he took up with a tramp like her all the people laughed
    And fate just seemed to find them on a one way losing streak
    Between the two they lived their lives trapped on a dead end street
    Well a man gets tired of zero and a woman hates that scorn
    And if time would allow they'd made those fools wish they were never born

    Oh how come it feels like Sunday each day of your life
    Some of us have to make a name before we're satisfied
    Oh and how come it feels like Monday seven days a week
    Work your fingers to the bone just to make ends meet

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    Well the bank job wasn't easy no they'd left a couple dead
    And when the headlines hit the stands that day twas Zero and the tramp they said
    Now it looks like they've got a man hunt for a couple of crazy kids
    And they both got just what they want it was a price upon their heads
    The more they kept on running the more they fell in love
    Cause when you live your life outside the law you need that kind of trust

    Oh how come it feels like Sunday...
    [ fiddle ]
    Sometimes the nights get colder and the dreams can chill your bones
    And it was on a night like this that they came too close to home
    They were caught up in the crossfire of a swat team's finest hour
    And went down in a blaze of automatic fire
    Crying hey we've really made it now

    Oh how come it feels like Sunday...
    Work your fingers to the bone just to make ends meet

    Información de la canción

    Composición: John Anderson y Bernie Taupin

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