Dark Saloons

Dark Saloons
(Difford/Tilbrook)

In dark saloons across the world
There’s horny boys and tired girls
Their legs are crossed, his eyes are red
The smoky room, the sweaty bed
Where dreams are laced with dollar bills
Excitement reigns and sex can kill
In dimly lit, wan, dusty rooms
And down below the old Jack croons
On bedside plates where money goes
And in the bar, each story’s told
With slur and slur, and drag by drag,
The best handjob he’s ever had

In dark saloons across the world
I hear the cry of tired girls
Who stand to make a meal tonight
The hungry kids who play outside
In mucky streets by rusty cars
That slowly park by crowded bars
And there she is with big, fat man
The tattered rags on stubbly hands
He drops his strides and babbles on
His English base, his marbles gone
And so the work gets truly peachy
Takes his money and his speech

Love is the theory
It’s not the fashion
To wear your passion on a clear day
Take a look around you
Anger is potent
When it’s exposing
Then you take notice this can’t be love
I get no dizzy spells from Beethoven or George Jones

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