Sitting here wasted and wounded at this old piano
Trying hard to capture the moment this morning
I don't know
'Cause a bottle of vodka still lodged in my head
And some blond gave me nightmares
I think that he's still in my bed
As I dream about movies they won't make of me when
I'm dead With an ironclad fist I wake up and
French kiss the morning
While some marching band keeps its own beat in my head
While we're talking About all of the things that
I long to believe
About love and the truth and what you mean to me
And the truth is baby you're all that I need
I want to lay you down on a bed of roses
For tonite I sleep on a bed on nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on bed of roses
Well I'm so far away each step that
I take is on my own
