Hangover Hotel

Somebody broke in, but all that was missing were the polaroids

Scene of the crime could be anywhere and anytime

And I'm always salivating about the maniac responcible

I know that to attack is merely the desire to free one's self

From infatuation that there's a thin line between a love tap

And murder with a blant instrument that a sharp stick in the

Eye kills the devil in the soul everytime

And night after night those hollow screams

Echo out through the deserting parking lots

A paper oasis littered with lottery dreams

And I'm always lacerating myself with memories

And the demented visions of some woe begotten

Messenger of the lord who's now living down at the

Hangover hotel where everybody's living hand

To mouth trying to get ahead

But sh*t, a quick jaunt down to the corner store

To pick up a 40 of colt and 45 a fifth of jack

A bottle of aspirin half a dozen condoms

And a carton of cigarettes will bring you down real hard

By about 50 bucks and then all you're left with is your dreams

And you'll be dreaming amongst drunks

Yeah... Dreaming

Remembering the way it used to be

Sh*t... The way still is - dirt cheap dreams sloppily executed

On sheetless matressess, pretty crimes of passinons

Bringing secrets to the surface with blood and alcohol

Scene of the crime could be anywhere and anytime