Anon PhemieC

Key Biscayne, where the colours are the same as they were in the dress of the lady I left there

Just like Italy or grand Paris or any other place with other mothers, daughters

Cut to the bone, we always fall alone, that's why I never call them back the morning after

Just straighten my tie, and never leave a sign, and don't respond with anything but laughter

When they ask who I am
I say "My dear, I wouldn't want to lie."
When they say I've betrayed them
I tell them I was never on their side

Nevada, where the summers are raw, and the heat does not escape my silk and cotton

Stains of blood and sweat, go dripping down my hand, and fall onto the thirsty sand like rain

Cut to the bone, we always die alone, that's why I never bother to recall their name

Just straight my tie, shake my head and sigh, right before the arrow hits my brain

And if they ask who I am
I say "Gentlemen, I wouldn't want to lie."
And when they say I've betrayed them
I tell them I was never on their side
I was never on their side