Room 101 Cory Branan (Ft. Jason Isbell)

Up at four on a dark and stormy novella night
For self-assessment in the fluorescent motel light
Bloody Mary in the mirror, but I’m calling her bluff
'Cause I’m here and I’m hell enough
I’m here and I’m hell enough

That battered bible in the drawer done some time in the trench
It’s been someone’s only hope for rolling papers in a pinch
Go on, give it up, Gideon
You can’t sell me that stuff
I'm here and I’m hell enough
I’m herе and I’m hell enough

I guess thеre’s always TV, but you ingest the meth
You might deserve to be entertained to death
And I’ve such remote control of my own breath
Up underneath these blues
Hauling my monumental health
Out the Marianna Trench, back up the Continental Shelf
I know this buoyant little angel, but it drowns out her help
When I’m down here and I’m hell itself
When I’m down here and I’m hell itself

So I free-fall into a dream
That feels like flight, enough
And trying to find the damn horizon, I ride the Death spiral until
Just in time for Death-defying I pull up
Awaiting the oohs and ahs
I wake up to no applause
Just a bill to be paid and some shit to get done
So put one fucking foot in front of the other one
Just my old unwelcome guest, crashing for the night
Stepping out of that door into oncoming morning light