Teksty:
Rick Springfield Working Class Dog

Where are you running my love, Through the backstreets of the city? You're keeping an eye on the horizon Looking over your shoulder Must be some demon

Standing at the terminal I can almost hear the music Coming from the cold and chilly L.A. night And when we get to the gate, baby All of the things that

Jessie is a friend, Yeah I know he's been a good friend of mine But lately something's changed It ain't hard to define Jessie's got himself a girl And

When we talk it's a thriller, baby It's like walking on a tightrope line When we spark it's electric, baby Like the crackle from a neon sign What you

I love that look comes in your eyes when we're all alone And it's much too late for friends to come calling I disconnect the phone And I put on the radio