The Long Ryders - Tell It to the Judge on Sunday Lyrics

Tell it to the judge on Sunday
Tell it to him, leave me alone
Tell it to the judge on Sunday
Hurry, you can call him at home
Better get out of my sight boys
Tell you I'm a busy man
Tell it to the judge on Sunday
He'll do what he can

Now folks got fears that they want the law to set right
And they don't get settled by riding with hoods through the night
There'll always be people to pick you up after somebody's put you down
So gimme a break and put back what you'd take
While the law still ain't around

Tell it to the judge on Sunday
Tell it to him, leave me alone
Tell it to the judge on Sunday
Hurry, you can call him at home
Better get out of my sight boys
Tell you I'm a busy man
Tell it to the judge on Sunday
He'll do what he can

You come a-stompin' in here like you own the joint and that's wrong
You probably think I wanna hear your sad sad song
Well maybe sometime when I was younger I'd put up with that swill
But I been a jailer for twenty-three years now and I got no time to kill

Now I don't care what crimes you done tonight
Nor do I care who's wroing or who's right
All I know is my life's been very hard
And the judge he lives in a house with a big big yard

Tell it to the judge on Sunday
Tell it, tell it, tell it

Tell it to the judge on Sunday
Tell it to him, leave me alone
Tell it to the judge on Sunday
Hurry, you can call him at home
Better get out of my sight boys
Tell you I'm a busy man
Tell it to the judge on Sunday
He'll do what he can

Now folks got fears that they want the law to set right
And they don't get settled by riding with hoods through the night
There'll always be people to pick you up after somebody's put you down
So gimme a break and put back what you'd take
While the law still ain't around

Tell it to the judge on Sunday
Tell it to him, leave me alone
Tell it to the judge on Sunday
Hurry, you can call him at home
Better get out of my sight boys
Tell you I'm a busy man
Tell it to the judge on Sunday
He'll do what he can

You come a-stompin' in here like you own the joint and that's wrong
You probably think I wanna hear your sad sad song
Well maybe sometime when I was younger I'd put up with that swill
But I been a jailer for twenty-three years now and I got no time to kill

Now I don't care what crimes you done tonight
Nor do I care who's wroing or who's right
All I know is my life's been very hard
And the judge he lives in a house with a big big yard

Tell it to the judge on Sunday
Tell it, tell it, tell it