Balmoral Hotel - Rare Americans

Stop, drop, roll, explore

Put out fires, to start some more

Rewards, little wars

I walked to the corner, went in the store

Familiar the smell, bourbon and quartz

Cashier said, nice to see you again

I smiled, I grabbed my shit and left

Hours later, numb in the face

I got to her house, a dodgy place

She walked bent over, a crippled back

Years of abuse, wrong side of the tracks

She offered me a vodka cran

Asked me if I had a plan

Hesitant to say what I was thinking, god damn

I’m treading the same rake, I’m way above the stakes

A bullet, a bullet, it’s on its way to me

Oh, a bullet, a bullet, it’s life or death for me

I’m on my own, and I’m so alone

Stop, drop, roll, explore

Put out fires, to start some more

Rewards, little wars

She sat in the corner, smoked on the floor

I asked her what lead to becoming a whore

«Careers were never my closest friend

And cash is king, my dividend

To pick my brain, and watch me pall»

A cloud of smoke, numbed her fall

I watched her as she pierced into her veins

She said she was stuck, worst of the beds

The ugliest place, that she ever had been

Balmoral Hotel, the best of the inns

Supplies are steady, you can begin

Your quest to freedom, calm your skin

Fear diminish, start again

I’ve kinda always wondered what that meant

I’m treading the same rake, I’m way above the stakes

A bullet, a bullet, it’s on its way to me

Oh, a bullet, a bullet, it’s life or death for me

I’m on my own, and I’m so alone

I’m treading the same rake, I’m way above the stakes

A bullet, a bullet, it’s on its way to me

Oh, a bullet, a bullet, it’s life or death for me

I’m on my own, and I’m so alone