STEVE TAYLOR I Blew Up The Clinic Real Good is a song recorded by STEVE TAYLOR that illustrates a melody and dynamics that make STEVE TAYLOR shine. As part of an amazing album, I Blew Up The Clinic Real Good lyrics will satisfy your music cravings. Sing along I Blew Up The Clinic Real Good lyrics using the lyrics on this page.
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STEVE TAYLOR I Blew Up The Clinic Real Good lyrics
STEVE TAYLOR I Blew Up The Clinic Real Good video
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I have the road in my blood
I drive a custom van
I play the tunes
I`m the neighborhood ice cream man
So don`t you mess this boy around
The other day when the clinic had it`s local debut
Some chicks were trying to picket
The doctor threatened to sue
I don`t care if it`s a baby or a tissue blob
but if we run out of youngsters
I`ll be out of a job
And so I
I did my duty
cleaning up the neighborhood
I blew up the clinic real good
Try and catch me coppers
Your stinkin` badges better think again
Before you mess this boy around
I`ve hung in Saigon just to see the special effects
I`ve hung from gravity boots for my napoleon complex
It`s time to close
Ohhh.... There she blows.
History In the making
You picked a fight.
I pick dynamite
I blew up the clinic real good.
Preacher on a corner
Calling it a crime
The ends don`t justify the means anytime
I stood up on my van
I yelled `Excuse me, sir
Ain`t nothin` wrong with this country
a few plastic explosives won`t cure
Back to: STEVE TAYLOR lyricsI drive a custom van
I play the tunes
I`m the neighborhood ice cream man
So don`t you mess this boy around
The other day when the clinic had it`s local debut
Some chicks were trying to picket
The doctor threatened to sue
I don`t care if it`s a baby or a tissue blob
but if we run out of youngsters
I`ll be out of a job
And so I
I did my duty
cleaning up the neighborhood
I blew up the clinic real good
Try and catch me coppers
Your stinkin` badges better think again
Before you mess this boy around
I`ve hung in Saigon just to see the special effects
I`ve hung from gravity boots for my napoleon complex
It`s time to close
Ohhh.... There she blows.
History In the making
You picked a fight.
I pick dynamite
I blew up the clinic real good.
Preacher on a corner
Calling it a crime
The ends don`t justify the means anytime
I stood up on my van
I yelled `Excuse me, sir
Ain`t nothin` wrong with this country
a few plastic explosives won`t cure
These lyrics are not available for printing.
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