Head full of crazy
and a belly full of Tanqueray
Well I’m flying down the highway
Trying to make a getaway
‘Cause I held up a station for cigarettes and money
on highway 203
Now I’m up ahead of every cop in Shelburne County
Oh good gracious me
Oh good gracious me

Red and blue lights
closer than they might appear
Well I’d sooner meet the devil
than have a judge gimme twenty years
The young fella came up firing from behind the counter
Winchester .33
Well I was aiming for his shoulder but I caught him in the belly
Oh good gracious me
Oh good gracious me

Well you win some
you lose some
Buddy it’s the hand of fate
Thought that I was holding aces
But the mounties they were holdin’ a straight
They tossed out the spikes and they gutted my wheels 
rolled my pickup right into the sea
Oh why’d I have to buy a crooked Smith & Wesson
Oh good gracious me
Oh good gracious me
Oh good gracious me
Oh good gracious me