thereīs gotta be a record of you some place
you gotta be on somebodyīs books
the lowdown - a picture of your face
your injured looks
the sacred and profane
the pleasure and the pain
somewhere your fingerprints remain concrete
and itīs your face Iīm looking for on every street
a ladykiller - regulation tattoo
silver spurs on his heels
says - what can I tell you as Iīm standing next to you
she threw herself under my wheels
oh itīs a dangerous road
and a hazardous load
and the fireworks over liberty expode in the heat
and itīs your face Iīm looking for on every street
a three-chord symphony crashes into space
the moon is hanging upside down
I donīt know why it is Iīm still on the case
itīs a ravenous town
and you still refuse to be traced
seems to me such a waste
and every victory has a taste thatīs bittersweet
and itīs your face Iīm looking for on every street
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