Back Door Slam

I was born in the back seat of a travellin' hurricane

I came up in the backstreets, the city with no name

I was raised on trouble, rock when I should roll

I never could control it, and I can't be controlled

I am what I am

I am the back door slam

When I walk down the streets, the streetlights go out

When I drive through your town, the dogs start to howl

But I'll stand in the shadows, sparks are in my hair

When I open up my mouth, my voice fills the air

I am what I am

I am the back door slam

People say, "I'm charming"

People say, "I'm alarming"

People can feel the disturbance around me

I don't care what they say they see

I'm the dust in your broom, a hundred proof ever clear

I'm the crack in your ceiling, thump you think you hear

I'm a 3 a.m. phone call, tank of gasoline

I'm a siren stopping at the end of your street

I am what I am

I am the back door slam

People say, "Strange"

People say, "I'm dangerous"

People can feel that a deal was struck

Save my soul, and make my own luck

I was born in the city, a city with no shame

And when I play guitar, they all know my name

I am what I am

I am the back door slam

I am what I am

I am the back door slam