Lyric Third Degree

Got me accused of peeping, I can t see a thing.
Got me accused of petting, I can t even raise my hand.

Bad luck, bad luck is killing me.
Well I just can t stand no more of this third degree.

Got me accused of murder, I ain t harmed a man.
Got me accused of forgery, I can t even write my name.

Chorus

Got me accused of taxes, I ain t got a dime.
Got me accused of children, and ain t nary one of them was mine.

Chorus