You Don`t Mess Around With Jim — текст песни (Jim Croce)

Uptown`s got its hustlers
The Bowry`s got its bums
Forty-second street`s got Big Jim Walker
He`s a pool-shootin` son of a gun
Well he`s big and dumb as a man can come
But he`s stronger than a country hoss
And when the bad folks all get together at night
You know they all call Big Jim boss
(Just because ...)
(They say ...)
CHORUS:
You don`t tug on Superman`s cape
You don`t spit into the wind
You don`t pull the mask of the old Lone Ranger
And you don`t mess around with Jim
(Ba-doo-da-doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo doot)
Well out of South Alabama come a country boy
He said I`m lookin` for a man named Jim
I am a pool-shootin` boy, my name is Willie McCoy
But back home they call me Slim
He said I`m lookin` for the king of forty-second street
He`s drivin` a drop-top Cadillac
And last week he took all my money, and it may sound funny
But I come to get my money back
(And everybody say, Jack -- don`t you know that...)
(CHORUS)
Well a hush fell over the pool room
When Jimmy come boppin` in off the street
And when the cuttin` was done, the only part that wasn`t bloody
Was the soles of the big man`s feet
He was cut in `bout a hundred places
And he was shot in a couple more
And you better believe they sung a different kind of story
When Big Jim hit the floor
(And now they say)
You don`t tug on Superman`s cape
You don`t spit into the wind
You don`t pull the mask of the old Lone Ranger
And you don`t mess around with Slim