This town is sick,all the drinks kick like battery acid
sicker than the rose you gave me
it's an ink spill on the canvas
smeared indistinguishable with night
all the broads have glass eyes and red dresses
you have to shake a few handsevery so often the animal pens
to get away with murder
and money in your back pocket
smears the gears of sin with blood
wind up with a hand and wrist
here's the alpha, the first,in the pub the ceiling fan's thirsty
you can tell it
the dirty wall's piss-stained
the windows cracked and nailed
that table in the corner is too loud
there's a sob in my belly
a gun in my hand,
razorwire in my veins
it's been two weeks since i've heard from you
and my head's so fuckin sick
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