Balmoral Hotel

(альбом: Rare Americans - 2018)

Stop, drop, roll, explore
Put out fires, to start some more
Rewards, little wars

I walked to the corner, went in the store
Familiar the smell, bourbon and quarts
Cashier said, nice to see you again
I smiled, I grabbed my shit and left
Hours later, numb in the face
I got to her house, a dodgy place
She walked bent over, a crippled back
Years of abuse, wrong side of the tracks
She offered me a vodka cran
Asked me if I had a plan
Hesitant to say what I was thinking, god damn

I'm treading the same rake
I'm way above the stakes
A bullet, a bullet
Is on it's way to me
Oh, a bullet, a bullet
It's life or death for me
I'm on my own
And I'm so alone

Stop, drop, roll, explore
Put out fires, to start some more
Rewards, little wars

She sat in the corner, smoked on the floor
I asked her what lead to becoming a whore
"Careers were never my closest friend
And cash is king, my divided
To pick my brain, and watch me pall"
A cloud of smoke, numbed her fall
I watched her as she pierced into her veins
She said she was stuck in the worst of the beds
The ugliest place she ever had been
Balmoral Hotel, the best of the inns
Supplies are steady, you can begin
Your quest to freedom, calm your skin
Fear diminish, start again
I've kinda always wondered what that meant

I'm treading the same rake
I'm way above the stakes
A bullet, a bullet
Is on it's way to me
A bullet, a bullet
It's life or death for me
I'm on my own
And I'm so alone