| Where do you go at night
|
| Where do you go at night
|
| Wrapped in your cheap cologne
|
| Where do you go at night
|
| Down to the pit with the stinking air
|
| And the smell of the sweat and the death is there
|
| I dance for a dollar and I dance for a dime
|
| Till their eyes are begging and their pockets are mine
|
| I pick a body and I name my fee
|
| I take their money and they take me
|
| That’s where I go at night
|
| That’s where I go at night
|
| Don’t point your finger
|
| Say your prayers at me
|
| The truth is hard but I’m gonna tell it
|
| Ah, there’s a whole lot of ways to sell it
|
| How do you spend your days
|
| How do you spend your days
|
| When you can sleep no more
|
| How do you spend your days
|
| I rise at four in the afternoon
|
| I take a match and the kitchen spoon
|
| I wrap my arm in an old necktie
|
| And I find religion on the very first try
|
| I wash my face and I comb my hair
|
| My looks are going but I just don’t care
|
| And that’s how I spend my days
|
| That’s how I spend my days
|
| Don’t point your finger
|
| Say your prayers at me
|
| The truth is hard but I’m gonna tell it
|
| Ah, there’s a whole lot of ways to sell it
|
| Where do you find your love
|
| Where do you find your love
|
| Where do you run to him
|
| Where do you find your love
|
| I find my love in an old hotel
|
| He’s mean and wicked and he knows me well
|
| He takes my body; |
| he takes my mind
|
| Takes my money and he beats me blind
|
| Says he’ll help me but he won’t say when
|
| Sends me walking on the streets again
|
| And that’s where I find my love
|
| That’s where I find my love
|
| Don’t point your finger
|
| Say your prayers at me
|
| The truth is hard but I’m gonna tell it
|
| Ah, there’s a whole lot of ways to sell it
|
| How will you spend your life
|
| How will you spend your life
|
| While ladies play at cards
|
| How will you spend your life
|
| Lying in a circle of velvet rooms
|
| Dying in six inch carpet of tombs
|
| Hiding in the gutter with the aching pains
|
| Trading the years for the aching veins
|
| Dying at last when the tricks are few
|
| And I can’t get action from a john like you
|
| Ah, that’s how I spend my life
|
| That’s how I spend my life
|
| Don’t point your finger
|
| Say your prayers at me
|
| The truth is hard but I’m gonna tell it
|
| Ah, there’s a whole lot of ways to sell it |