Big Shot

Lyrics for Big Shot

Stanshall I am the Big Shot. You heard me right the first time, name of bachelor, Johnny Cool. Occupation: big shot. Occupation at the moment: just having fun. What a party that was, the drinks were loaded and so were the dolls. I narrowed my eyes and poured a stiff Manhattan, then I saw... Hotsy. What a dame, a big bountiful babe, in the region of 48-23-38. One hell of a region. She had the hottest lips since Hiroshima, I had to stand back for fear of being burned. "Whisky-wow-wow", I breathed; she was dressed as Biffo the Bear. In that kind of outfit, she could get rolled at night... And I don't mean on a crap table. "It's kind of revealing, isn't it?" "Revealing? It's positively risqué, I like it." She said, "You're the man of a thousand G's, right?" "A thousand what?", I quipped, "Why, G-man, girls, guns, guts... You're my type" "Wrong, baby!", I slapped her hard, "I'm an L-man. Strictly liquor, love and laughs" She stared over my shoulder. "Play it cool, Johnny." "Play it what?", I flipped. "Listen, I fought my way up from tough East-Side New York. Lead-filled socks and sub-machine guns. Like this!" She said, "Johnny this is a deadly game, have a few laughs and go home." I shuddered. Normally I pack a rod in pyjamas; I carry nothing but scars from Normandy Beach. I said, "Wrong, baby, you can't fool me." She spat playfully. "I'm ahead of you, Johnny." I studied the swell of her enormous boobs and said, "Baby, you're so far ahead it's beautiful!" "You, you are, you're eccentric, I like that." "Electric, Cherie, bug off my rocket, tu comprends?" We spoke French fluently. Our lips met again and again, "Yeah yeah yeah," I slobbered. Hotsy said, "You're slobbering all over the seat, kid." I went home, late. Very late. What could I say to my wife? "Darling, I've been beaten up again"? Let's face it, she's credulous as hell. A punk stopped me on the street. He said, "You got a light, mac?" I said, "No, but I've got a dark brown overcoat."