Forty-Four - Eric Burdon

I wore my 44 so long it made my shoulder sore

I wore my 44 so long it made my shoulder sore

Well I’m wondring everybody where did my baby go

Take this weapon as a gift son

May it serve you all your life

You know my blood is running cold

And my trigger finger is turning white

Cold as ice

I hold those fat brass bullets

Each one feels as cold as ice

I hold those fat brass bullets

Each one feels as cold as ice

I keeps it under my pillow

Just to get me thru the night

Well I’m so mad this morning

I don’t know where in the world to go

Well I’m so mad this mornin’g

I don’t know where in the world to go

And now I’m lookin' for mister money so I can get myself some dough

I’m lookin' for mister money

So I can get myself some dough