(Blackmore/Coverdale/Hughes/Lord/Paice). Well I'm a rock and roll preacher. Not a Sunday school teacher. You ain't no shady lady. But I love the way you strut your stuff. You're a snow queen looking mean. Tryin' to make it on the scene. I guess you love it. 'Cause I always see you hanging' around. You're a high ball shooter. You make it easy to see. High ball shooter. You sure ripped the low ones off me. A Magnet brought you to me. Told me your name was Jo. You said you liked my music. And you really did enjoy the show. Now I wanna play piano. But my fingers don't agree. They're busy on you woman. And I feel your fingers workin' on me. You're a high ball shooter. You make it easy to see. High ball shooter. You sure ripped the low ones off me. It's time to leave you honey. I know you're feeling sad. Don't you cry now baby. You know that only makes me mad. I see you everywhere I go. Every town and place. I can't recall your name. But I know I won't forget your sweet face. You're a high ball shooter. You make it easy to see. High ball shooter. You sure ripped the low ones off me. 'Cause you're a high ball shooter. You make it easy to see. High ball shooter. You sure ripped the low ones off me. .