My shoes are heavy
My feet are winding down
I look for her in corners
But she's not around
What I eat is eating me
It hits me hard
I'm one jack short of a royal flush
A stranger holds the card
Here come the salvation in the shape of my guitar
And I'm gonna ride it like a shooting star

I don't want your money
I don't want your soul
I don't need a reason
I just want to get right down and lick it up

Mother Mercy told me
A picture never lies
She told me no self respecting hero ever cries
The prisoner walks in circles
The victim walks alone
Scissors cut the paper
The paper wraps the stone
Standing at the entrance to the gates of paradise
The lights go down, the heat goes up, that's when I cry

I don't want your money
I don't want your soul
I don't a reason
I just want to get right down and lick it up

I put my faith in fortune reaching for the sky
The only game in town that gets me high

I don't want your money
I just want to get right down and lick it up
I don't want your soul
I just want to get right down and lick it up
I don't need a reason
I just want to get right down and lick it up

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): IAN GILLAN, RITCHIE BLACKMORE, ROGER DAVID GLOVER