Margot's tryna kill me
Through the hotel television
She's gone back to rat trap missions
To suspend my soul in prison
Oh, and Margot's got a body
That could make a boy go missing
Turn any man un-Christian
Make a dead man's life worth living
She wants my soul
Then again she probably don't
Losing control
Tell myself what I should already know
She isn't real
She's a projection of carnal ideals
If I were to meet her, I'd forget how I feel
Forget her phone number
Forget her high heels
Pictures of a girl I knew scroll through my crack-cocaine phone
I'm addicted to this painful longing list for lonesome angels
Who're starved to model swimsuits
And flee to somewhere in the Rockies
Sip attention like hot sake
Brings the bloodhounds to her body
Doesn't she know
Just how evil a man can be
Now I've gotta go
I'm not trying to wait and see
She isn't real
She's an invention of youth sex appeal
My notion of love's blood and bodily zeal
My conscience is falling asleep at the wheel
And I prayed
To some higher sense of myself
To avert my eyes, and I blame
Just about everyone else for my sick state of mind
Thirty years I see myself chasing tail in West Nevada
Guns and girls bring me Nirvana
Bought a .45 with my last dollar
So if Margot comes to fuck me
In my hotel south of Vegas
She will find me dead and brainless
As I was when I dreamed her naked