St. Teresa

(альбом: Bloomin' Too - 2022)

St. Teresa with her dog on the beach
She's been divorced for years
And drunk for weeks
Power-walking from the ghosts she sees in her sleep
It's gay sons and younger blondes
With big perfect teeth

When her little dog in the sand
Throws up its paws and says, "Hey man...

Gotta get yourself a grip
Lay off the leash a bit
And keep in mind we're talking to the dog again...

Why you gotta go and take it all so bad, oh mama oh?
Like every wave in the bay is just breaking across your back
Can't we turn it up just a little more?
You know this Apocalypse, it doesn't have to be a bore...

Down to the marina, gonna steal us a boat
Name it something sick as hell
Like 'Beerly Afloat'
Fill it up with tequila, porn, and dynamite
Push the throttle down, tear it off
Put the nose into the night

If everything comes from nothing
Then back to nothing it must go
So if were going to burn out, girl
Let's give em all a show

Why you gotta go and take it all so bad, oh mama oh?
Like every wave in the bay is just breaking across your back
Can't we turn it up just a little more?
You know this Apocalypse, it doesn't have to be a bore...

Wasting away atop a pile of money
We could be burning like the pros
Ya can't buy love and your can't spend worry
Life's a blur, and then you go

Why you gotta go and take it all so bad, oh mama oh?
Like every wave in the bay is just breaking across your back
Can't we turn it up just a little more? Yessir!
You know this Apocalypse, it doesn't have to be a bore
Get in or get on out, It just don't matter anymore