Cameo

He said his name was

Cameo, Cameo

He said his name was

Cameo, Cameo



He said his name was Cameo

He danced a nasty, funk-style retro

He drove a bright red '67 GTO

He liked to let his Elvis-style hair grow



He was a black belt loaded with skills

He spoke slow, choosing words that could kill

Honest people didn't need to fear him

But do not cross that Native American



Cameo, Cameo

Cameo, Cameo



He said his name was

Cameo, Cameo

He said his name was

Cameo, Cameo



He would whisper, "White Man speak with forked tongue"

Before he was finished talking, you'd be going down

He'd repeat, "White Man speak with forked tongue"

And by that time you'd be long dead and buried in the ground



Cameo, Cameo

Cameo, Cameo



I said his name was

Cameo, Cameo

He said his name was

Cameo, Cameo



He wore a white leather racing jacket

Zipped wide open so you could check out

His tanned body and his clean-shaved pecs

And the turquoise jewelry dangling from his neck



He said his name was

Cameo, Cameo

He said his name was

Cameo, Cameo



Cameo, Cameo

Cameo, Cameo