| He’s lying on the double bed acting self-assured
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| In his T-shirt ana his underwear he’s barely said a word
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| She pours a cup of coffee lights the day’s first cigarette
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| Picks up the phone and call her kids from the motel kitchenette
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| There’s two guys moving slowly in the room across the hall
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| Both their heads are pounding from last night’s alcohol
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| They met in a chat room then they took it here
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| They both go by pseudonyms and soon they’ll disappear
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| Cheaters, liars, outlaws, and fallen angels
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| Come looking for the grace from which they fell
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| They hold on to each other in the darkness
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| The morning light is hell at the Camelot Motel
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| He met her at the pool hall the guys told him she was touched
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| Now she’s ranting and she’s raving about the Devil, Christ and such
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| He’s thinking about the highway and the way she begged last night
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| He’s wishing he had blown this dump before the morning light
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| Cheaters, liars, outlaws, and fallen angels Come
|
| Looking for the grace from which they fell
|
| They hold on to each other in the darkness
|
| The morning light is hell at the Camelot Motel
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| Lancelot and Guenivere bang their bedpost in my ear
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| Neon lights the castle walls bug lights in the entry halls
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| I lie awake with a troubled mind thinking 'bout what I left behind
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| Me and the royal denizens got damn good reasons for our sins
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| There’s a couple counting money in room 124
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| They’re wrapping 10's and 20's throwing 1's down on the floor
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| They’re strung out and nervous, they jump at every little sound
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| He keeps picking up his pistol then putting his pistol down
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| Cheaters, liars, outlaws, and fallen angels
|
| Come looking for the grace
|
| From which they fell
|
| They hold on to each other
|
| In the darkness
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| The morning light is hell |