Sips in the bourbon corner of a Blues bar
on the red light strip. Feels right at home
in the stench of sweat, blood an' smoke

his purple mood suits him.

Travelling fire inside keeps him
mindful of time but the music's
fine and he's limelight hypnotised.

Black curls spill down skin, caress curves.
Mouth pouts, hips swerve, clothes slip…
he chokes, she burns, she's smouldering.

Swears he's never seen such an effigy of sin.

Likes how she makes him think
that sink-hook killer lightnin' look

… flashes just for him.

Yeah, she'll make you feel you're
someone… for a hundred dollar bills.

Girl like that's never satisfied she'll revel
in your misery an' rip out your insides.

(… kinda girl he likes…)

In his mind they're out the door…
headed south down back-bone roads.