He wears a zoot suit with a reet pleat,
Drives a '36 Cord with a rumble seat.
He's a jitterbug; scare the letters off a highway sign.
He drinks beer and eats bennies
And chases it down with Thunderbird wine.
Carries brass knuckles and a .44,
Runs a loan shark business and a mary jane store.
He's a jitterbug; keeps movin', don't sit still;
If the law don't get him, some gun-totin' irate husband will.

One day in September he stepped out of his Cord,
Into the street to face a bullet-spittin' Ford.
Now he's “Jitterbug,” just a name in the news.
He finally paid the price;
He finally paid his dues.

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