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Iâm in a meat-pack plant by the gutterside
A slaughterhouse apartment with a slice of lime
Iâm cruisinâ with the bruisers, boozinâ, Iâll be a suitor, losing my mind.
Because thereâs nothing to find.
The fetid stench of bad intentions hangs in the sweat
Iâm in a sauna hot with drama and Iâm tryinâ to forget
All the masochistic rapture mis-steps
Imminent pleasureâs ready to cut. To the bone.
You said âlet loose!â But now youâre lost.
While you tied your boots like a tightrope noose.
The problem chased the taste of the cause.
While the evidence supports the truth. Is 80 enough proof for you?
Hereâs to my lady and Iâm coming inside
Drink to me baby, and whatâs left of whatâs right.
Itâs easier to use and lose than never to have used you
On a fucked up Saturday night. Good times on Front Street.
Loose lips sink ships, captain, will you go down?
Float your boat and overboard and hoping to drown.
Tell me what prevented you from coming downtown alone.
Because we know youâre not afraid.
This chastity is Greek to me, the meat is still fresh
The gnashing teeth will masticate the bone from the flesh
Since nobody will tell me where these bastards go, Iâll see for myself.
I think they might go to hell.
You said âlet loose!â But now youâre lost.
While you tied your boots like a tightrope noose.
The problem chased the taste of the cause.
While the evidence supports the truth. Is 80 enough proof for you?
Hereâs to my lady and Iâm coming inside
Drink to me baby, and whatâs left of whatâs right.
Itâs easier to use and lose than never to have used you
On a fucked up Saturday night. Good times on Front Street.
LAST CALL FOR MORALS, BETTER COVER YOUR DRINK
SODOM AND GOMORRAâD LET IT GO DOWN THE SINK
- Álbum:
- Everything is a Lot
- Self-ish