| D.T. empty stare and body shiver
|
| Whisky — need a shot to stop the quiver
|
| I’ve been here for days or minutes
|
| Where is here? |
| I couldn’t tell
|
| Somewhere in the outer limits
|
| Pretty close, I guess, to Hell
|
| Hazy names and places
|
| Foggy memory
|
| Help me — Mister, can you spare a dollar?
|
| Need a drink before I start to holler
|
| Seedy bars is where I hang out
|
| Crawling up the Strip all night
|
| Dodging tabs and seeking spenders
|
| Passing out or starting fights
|
| It’s a way of living
|
| In the underworld
|
| Close to the edge — Barfly
|
| Ready to fall
|
| Walking the ledge — Barfly
|
| Nothing or all
|
| Playing your part — Barfly
|
| Searching… Barfly
|
| Barrooms — stench of beer, the smell of losers
|
| Lowlifes — aging whores and senile boozers
|
| We’re a family of zombies
|
| But a family nonetheless
|
| Gotta hang on to each other
|
| When your life’s a filthy mess
|
| Fighting for survival
|
| Fighting loneliness
|
| Way out — got a choice, I’m not a dumb one
|
| Create — write a book and be a someone
|
| Memoirs very popular
|
| In those intellectual circles
|
| Barfly turns to cult — scene start
|
| Sleaze can be attractive
|
| Viewed from safer shores
|
| Close to the edge — Barfly
|
| Ready to fall
|
| Nothing or all — Barfly
|
| Searching… Barfly |