The cost of living fast and lean
And getting what you're owed
Is feeling always in between
And strung out on the road

I sink into the motel bed
And stare up at a water-stain
I take a pill and rub my head
And listen to the rain

The blues and reds are easy meds
Embalming for my brain
They drive the creeping minutes out
I count the loss but gain

The easy buzz of Secanol
and bourbon brings me peace
One-hundred-forty minutes flat
A fleeting, sweet release

I run my fingers through my hair
Relaxed, as I come to
I lift the satchel off the chair
I've got a job to do

The headlights through the curtains
Trace a line across the floor
I pull them snugly closed and
Flip the deadlock on the door

Pull the slide and pop the spring
Wipe the action with a rag
Lubricate with kerosene
Reassemble, slap the mag

I shake the cardboard ammo box
The rounds are heavy, cold and clean
I flip them over, one by one
And press into the magazine

The sun is slowly rising though
I cannot see the light
As sure as I'm about to blow
Tonight will be the night.