Jim Hoehn: Music
Small-Town Bad
Hot-headed and cold-blooded, hurricane deadly when they'd mix
Basically sat on his worthless ass, trigger-finger rattlesnake quick
He was the son of two loving Christians, sister was a valedictorian
He was the brother of the devil himself and a whorehouse lover of the gun
Refrigerator held a newspaper clip from his days in high school sports
But since 18 his claim to fame was his name in the police reports
He'd rob, he'd steal, he'd cut a deal 'cause he almost always got caught
But he learned the game of shifting the blame so it was someone else's fault
(Chorus)
They don't make 'em like that anymore, thank God, one was enough
Small-town bad and big-time dumb, he probably really wasn't that tough
He was a bully, plain and simple, hell on wheels in a podunk way
A minor-league criminal whose lack of brains and ambition stood in the way
At the rotary and the junior Jaycee they'd be braggin' on their kids
Doctors, teachers, lawyers and such, proud of all what they did
His mom and dad had to bite their tongues which made it harder still
'Cause their baby boy, their pride and joy was full-time Loserville
They came home from Sunday church to find the family wagon stole
He'd wasted time on nickel and dime and he was ready to roll
On up that county road apiece for a big-city, big-money score
With an attitude and a .357, he hit the convenience store
(Chorus)
He hopped the counter like Dillinger, don't move nobody gets harmed
As he was deliverin' his rehearsed speech the clerk hit the silent alarm
He flashed his grin, grabbed the cash and waved his pistol around
Six deputy sheriffs filled him full of lead and he was dead before he hit the ground
His parents told the TV news, "What son? We have no son."
But they'd invested in their future by paying his life insurance premium
Now mom and dad got a beachfront condo, little sister got her braces fixed
You might say the family had the last laugh when the little bastard got his
(Chorus)