Greasepaint is classification nightmare. You try to tell what genre it is. Regardless, it's a catchy acoustic ditty.
Johnathan J Goodin
|
|
Pay off another peddler with the bones of New Orleans. And spend your nights with the endless fights you lose to Hennessey. Sweep out all the cobwebs in your house of missing stairs, and use a glass of Sour Mash to wash down your wild hairs.
If you play a perfect sinner, you might make yourself a saint. Saint Peter will be laughin' underneath the wet greasepaint. You fly out to Chicago, but your soul's stuck in L.A. So buy another round and hope her memory fades.
Symptoms of your addictions dancing wildly at the bars. Bishop stole a diesel, but he broke down in New York. Spiders gather fondly under your eyes on winter nights, poison all your memories, lay eggs in your fright.
repeat chorus
x |
|
 |
|