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