(R. Stewart/D. Hitchings/J. Cregan)
I walk the streets at night
until the morning light comes shining through
Can't get a good night's sleep
Ain't been to work in weeks
What am I gonna do
Help me
Can't get her off my mind
I'm drinking too much wine
I'm burning up inside
If I could touch her face
or take her out some place I'd be satisfied
Hey, I'm a loaded gun
I'm crazy about her, crazy about her
Hey, I'm a lovesick son
I'm crazy about her
I see her jogging in Central Park
with one of them Walkman's on her head.
She was hot, young, beautiful
and I said to myself
She's destined to be mine
I see her every day
in rush hour or subway, in a grocery store
She don't notice me,
I might as well just be a cockroach on the floor
If she belonged to me I'd give her everything
I'd never cheat or lie
I'd treat her with respect, not just a sex object
I ain't that kind of guy
Hey, I'm a loaded gun
I'm crazy about her, crazy about her
Hey, I'm a lovesick son
I'm crazy about her
I was standing outside the Met one day
when she drove by in a black Corvette
I said Hey baby
I could've died, she looked straight through me
But I know she's destined to be mine
Spoken:
Every night I stand around her door and wait for her to come by
She lives in one of those brown-stones with the guard outside
and the limousines and the Rolls Royces coming and going