A Hole In My Chest Where the Bullet Belongs

The plot thickens
Like the greatest part of her hips
Seduced by lips
Haunted by tits
She wrote her name where the record skips

And I was a man of no faith, but good stature
Not much has changed before or after
Just a decadent dime sized dent in my forehead
And ruby red lipstick where my wrist bled

Two weeks in San Anton'
Floating with our heads above water
Bodies below watching shadows in the grove
On the cracked screen of my telephone
I realize that she whispers that I am alone

Man of no luck, no superstitions
Value faded as the passing years
Of her tattoo, beat blue as the music does allow
And I watch as she steps back into the light now

Pure fucking guitar solo gold

Her skin the face of a planet imagined as God
Leavin' trails where my fingers once walked
The roses in her cheeks, blue summer bloom
Forgotten rituals in her eternal bedroom

A life of no pride, the ego shed
A cracked dry kiss of dirty ruby red
A bitter man once born, is a better man
He's a better man when he's dead
When he's dead
When he's dead
Dead