It was the darkest night in August
When he walked into the bar
All around
People were drinking
And smoking cheap cigars
So he found himself a table
In the back
Where the light's were low
And a waitress
Who looked a lot like "Lana Turner"
Smiled and took his coat
On the jukebox a song was playing
With a haunting melody
And a voice
That just kinda hung there
Singing slightly out of key
It was a song about a woman
And a love
That did not last
The lyrics
Seemed to chill him
Like a voice out of the past
No one seemed to notice
As the record
Played over, and over, and over again
The room started spinning
His torture
Had no end
Louder and louder
On and on
Until he thought he'd surely go insane
He paid his check
Ran out the door
Into the pouring rain
The song played on
Inside his mind
Growing in unrestrained intensity
He stumbled to a phone
Dialed real slow
She answered on the 7th ring
And he said
Baby, oh baby
All has not been well
'Cause without you
I am living
In my own private
Hell
Hell
I am living
In my own private hell
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Yeah
Oh oh oh