Bed of Roses

Sitting here wasted and wounded with this old piano. Trying hard to capture the moment, this morning I don't know. 'cause a bottle of vodka still lies in my head and some blonde gave me nightmares, I think that she's still in my bed. As I think about movies they won't make of me when I'm dead. With an iron-clad fist I wake up to french-kiss the morning. While a marching band keeps it's own beat in my head while we're talking about all of the things I longed to believe, about love, the truth, what you mean to me and the truth is... Baby you're all that I need. I wanna lay you down in a bed of roses. Tonight I sleep on a bed of nails. I wanna be just as close as the Holy Ghost is. Lay you down, on a bed of roses. I'm so far away, each step that I take's on my way home. A king's ransom in dimes I'd give each night to see through this payphone. But I'd run out of time or it's hard to get through till the bird on the wire flies me back to you. I'll just close my eyes. And whisper "baby it probably is true". The hotel bars hangover whiskey's gone dry. The bartender's wig's crooked, she's giving me the eye. I might've said yes, but I laughed so hard I think I died. Now as you close your eyes you know I'll be thinking about you. My mistress she calls me to stand in her spotlight again. I won't be alone, you know that don't mean I'm not lonely. I've got nothing to prove, for its you I'd die to defend.