Jim Morrison’s Killer On The Road

I might be Jim Morrison’s Killer on the road, A derelict you’d like to forget, But don’t look into my eyes, You might become hypnotized. You think I’m too dirty For your side of town, But, baby, I might be the man Who burns you down. I’m schizophrenic and firecracker high, I’m not scared to live And I’m not scared to die, I’m carrying my pistol And I’m carrying my knife I’m dropping my wallet, I don’t value this life, I can taste blood In the smoky air That drifts through the night, There’s nothing I want to see, I’ve got a fever in my eyes, I’m going to paint a violent masterpiece The day they label me deceased, I’ve got a heart like morgue, I don’t worry about nothing anymore, I think I’ll tattoo my neck With rusty razorblades, Don’t look in my direction Unless you’re wearing shades, I might be the man, baby, Who burns you down.