I’m a dead ringer for a gunslinger.

A rock ‘n roll singer and a stiff finger.

If you cross my path, don’tcha dare linger.

I’ll put you away to stay ‘cause I’m a dead ringer.

My eyes last night turned red at the sight

Of a young girl, she was all alone.

My blood was hot and believe it or not

I fed that poor girl a bone.

I fancy meeting the man off of his beat

Who’ll call my number and seek.

A knife in his middle; a dead man’s fiddle.

A grave on some dark street.

I’m a mudslinger, the bee’s stinger.

The bell ringer of the coming fight.

I’m the king that everybody hates.

The champion of sin and second rate.

Ringer, slinger, singer, finger.

Ringer, stinger, etc.

Triphammer "Live At Evans Scholars, March 2, 1974" Cassette/CD (Unreleased)