From the recording The Right Kind of Crazy

Michael Owens, Vocal, Lead & Rhythm Guitars, Drum Program Bill Grenke Bass Glenn Manske Strings, Piano & French Horns


I wrote this song
It ain’t worth a dime
Still I brought it in on time
Did I have to sell my soul?
Wouldn’t you like to know
Chorus: She’ll burn a hole in your pocket
The right kind of crazy
It’s an emotion away
A cruel shade of gray
Like a murder in the first degree
You’re on the wrong side of history
Texting with your alphabet soup
Do good deeds, Praise the troops
Middle 8: Dogs just like to ride and feel the wind
Like the tide, it rushes in
The bitter winds of change, The beast within
We are like seeds on the wind
A forlorn priest, a suicidal man
Stumbling through a meaningless existence
The voice of the voiceless pushing back against the darkness
As we decent into madness
The insurgents are now the palace guards
A daily dose of televised death
But I know there’s magic out there, I know there’s magic out there
Repeat to fade: