Shooting Jones (Blue Eyes, Black Heart)

Her hair was as black as night
Her eyes mean as hell
Crimson kisses and voodoo jive
We took each other and fell
Shooting jones in play pen
And all the singles bars

Pay phone call from jacksonville
Move on tired man feel so ill
The streets I walk with you
Breath now I roam alone
I pass a thousand houses
Not one to call my home
Carved our names with a knife
And cut on glass to tell

Shooting jones in the play pen
And all the singles bars
Pay phone call from jacksonville
Made a long tired man felt so ill
Her hair was as black as night
And her eyes mean as hell