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Jackson made 20 tapes in a day
To give away
A giveaway
And he play
The tunes they'd call creative
When they're running out of names
Heaven knows, he's really torn it now
But the names, it hurt poor Jackson
Stopped the haters in his way
Heaven knows he's for it
Shame, hey, hey
He was never quite unsure but really sane
Wants to play
Jackson stole 20 souls in a day
To take away
A takeaway
He takes away
And no complaints
Heart's upon his sleeve and his blade
Wood Jackson took the beating every day
Given out, passed away, another way
Hey, hey
Just wants to play
And how he played
The mob, they bleed and tremble when they're running after life
Heaven knows, he's really torn it now
The words that killed Wood Jackson's friends were written on the wall
Heaven knows he's for it
Shame
Just wants to play
It's a shame
Shame
It's a shame
Wants to play
It's a shame
It's a shame
Just wants to play
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