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
Is still lodged in my head
And some blond gave me nightmares
I think she'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
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, the [bad word] And what you mean to me
And the [bad word] is
Baby you're all that I need
 [bad word] ]
I want to lay you on a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close
as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses

Well I'm so far away
Each step that I take's on my way home
king's ransom in dimes
I'd give each night
To see through this pay phone
Still [bad word] out of time
Or it's hard to get through
Till the bird on the wire
flies me back to you
I'll just close my eyes and whisper,
Baby blind love is [bad word]  [bad word] 

The hotel bar hangover
Whiskey's gone dry
The barkeeper's wig's crooked
And she's giving me the eye
I might have said yeah
But I laughed so hard I think I died

Now as you close your eyes
Know I'll be thinking about you
While my mistress she calls me
To stand in her spotlight again
Tonight I won't be alone
But you know that don't
Mean I'm not lonely
I've got nothing to prove
For it's you that I'd die to defend
 [bad word]