Third Degree

Got me accused of peeping, I can't see a thing. Got me accused of petting, I can't even raise my hand. Bad luck, bad luck is killing me. Well I just can't stand no more of this third degree. Got me accused of murder, I ain't harmed a man. Got me accused of forgery, I can't even write my name. Chorus Got me accused of taxes, I ain't got a dime. Got me accused of children, and ain't nary one of them was mine. Chorus