You wake up
at the bottom of the stairs
face-down, pent-up
stench of bourbon in the air.
Like a home-sick hangover
left in the street
stumble into darkness
on a blind beggar's feet.
Reekin' of disaster
on a hell of a climb
to the top of the junkheap
with business on your mind.
With a fist full of deuces
and a bet on your life
for a fortnight of pleasure
with the hangman
and his wife.

Having to beg what you borrow.
Having to steal what you own.
Waiting in line 'til tomorrow
just to choke on the seeds that you've sown.
Must remember the torture.
Must remember the pain.
Waiting on somebody's fortune
just to come in from the rain.

On the dark side
- this is the dark side of the song -
so everybody join together
we'll all sing along.
When we get through all that dark shit
keeping down inside
we'll go and spend a warm day
over on the bright side
over on the bright side....

© 1989 GNILSONGS

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