Nice Guys (Don't Get Paid)

Well, they packed up their violin cases of the finest artillery Hopped in a big black Studebaker, they were acting pretty scary And no one talked as they synchronized their watches And they drove past the train station Well, the train rolled out with a passenger car Filled with retired millionaires and movie stars Two twitching men clutched six guns in their sweat-drenched coats With a fail-safe holded up plan and that would be all she wrote And the gangsters, cowboys, gypsies, and freewheelers Sold out their trades to become drug dealers There ain't no money in doing things straight Your community thanks you, business is good, and nice guys don't get paid Outside the train window fast as he could ride Was a kid on a horse with a head full of lies And the tears of excitement couldn't put out the fire in his eyes For the house he was riding to burglarize All through the house they were dancing and singing An extended family with fiddlers and magicians A juggler and a chemist who'd invent a potion To pacify all the killers and rapists The chemist died in the burglary and they sold the prescription For a case of cheap red wine to a traveling salesman In a three-wheeled jalopy he bought and sold potions To the city that looked over the ocean And he sold the last drop, it was big with the rich kids And soon the city would be crawling with addicts In back rooms, dark alleys, basements and attics Where a fly is trapped in a spider's web but a bat's got the spider And no one knows what's going on But you gotta show up for yourself at the end of the day And nice guys don't get paid Nice guys don't get paid Now all the hopeless romantics are wearing white collars Upstanding assassins, clean hands, filthy dollars Hijackin' fanatics who kill for religion In a city full of addicts and colored television