Cold Cruel Tyrant Lyrics - Papa Hoodlum

I've been working like a Trojan so I can make your house a home 

I sing until I'm hoarse, and play these fingers to the bone 

But you take the love I bring for you, and you send me out for more 

I guess I won't be down on Grape Street anymore 

You're a martyr on a mission, you're the devil on a dare 

With that royal flush you're flashing, you're beating down my little pair 

I said, Baby, who's your daddy 

You say, I call you when I know 

And don't let that ol' door hit you when you go 

'Cause you're a cold, cruel tyrant 

With your Barbie heads lined on a shelf 

You're a cold, cruel tyrant 

But something in me needs you, honey 

It's a hard pan stretch of highway, I'm the hitcher on the side 

Not so young and dumb, but numb and thumbing for a ride 

I see your Continental crest that hill, and you slow to catch my eye 

Then you hit the gas and wave on your way by 

That's a cold, cruel tyrant 

Too tres sous mond to share the wealth 

Cold cruel tyrant 

But I could never live without you 

That Joseph Stalin in you lingers 

And when you reign, you really pour 

You play that Little Miss Bossy Finger 

But I see now all I want is more and more 

And more and more and more and more and more 

And more and more and more of you 

You can tell me that you love me, if it gets you what you need 

You can write me off for living, dead or living, yes indeed 

Or you can don that superhero cape and go save the whole, wide world 

But you'll always be your Papa's Little Girl 

But what a cold, cruel tyrant 

But I just can't help myself 

You're a cold, cruel tyrant 

Who the hell did you get that from, anyway?