There's gotta be a record of you some place You gotta be on somebody's books The lowdown, a picture of your face Your injured looks The sacred and profane The pleasure and the pain Somewhere your fingerprints remain concrete and it's your face, I'm looking for on every street A ladykiller, regulation tattoo Silver spurs on his heels Says, what can I tell you as I'm standing next to you She threw herself under my wheels Oh it's a dangerous road, and a hazardous load And the fireworks over liberty expode in the heat and it's your face, I'm looking for on every street A three-chord symphony crashes into space The moon is hanging upside down I don't know why it is, I'm still on the case It's a ravenous town and you still refuse to be traced Seems to me such a waste And every victory has a taste that's bittersweet And it's your face I'm looking for on every street
