Dressed to kill stonemen I'd guess you could call him A wolf in sheep's clothing Midnight, sis, like a soup under a sheep's skin A moon on the shadow A face scarred by a certain sharp deal In that designer thrift shop number A senator, a statesman Or a shark and smartly candy-sweet That glint in his eye like a pill And if so inclined, vote worthy too A wolf in sheep's clothing From Brooklyn to Britain, Moscow to Bonn Sizing up arms deals at the back of a bar From hotels to motels, from Kansas to Perth Popcorn, hard corn, dollar and glitzen A sweaty palm greeting for kings and hookers While counting the slums with a realistic vision Caring's not in him, it's not in his style It's home to the white with a smile, love the jazz One day, his face Dressed to kill stonemen I'd guess you could call him A wolf in sheep's clothing And speeches, his words carry a lot of weight Like a man in insurance who beats up his day No plans for the future, no thought of the past Lots in his pocket, he knows his homeland What a story he can tell Whatever you want, he's ready to sell A worm in a three-piece, in search of a fleece I guess you could call him a wolf in sheep's clothing One day, his face Dressed to kill stonemen I'd guess you could call him A wolf in sheep's clothing A wolf What big mouths have What big eyes have What big nerves have I'd guess you could call him A wolf in sheep's clothing One day, his face Dressed to kill stonemen Dressed to kill I'd guess you could call him a wolf A wolf in sheep's clothing One day, his face One day, his face Dressed to kill stonemen Dressed to kill I'd guess you could call him Oh, yeah, yeah