Driving my shitbox through the neon haze,
Looking for a place to drown my head.
Loud and grimy dive bar called “The Black Hole.”
I walk in like I belong: a rockabilly rebel,
A lone wolf in a thrift-store leather jacket,
White shirt, tight jeans, shit-kicking boots.

A mix of fuckups, sluts, and thugs
Smoking, sweating, spilling beer.
Band plays cover shit on a tiny stage,
Some punk-garage junk, I don’t care.
I see a girl with black hair and black lipstick,
Too much makeup, tits spilling out.
She’s leaning on the bar, drinking vodka shots.
I slide next to her, order a whiskey.
I tell her my name’s Eddie, I’m in sales,
Here on business, just passing through.

Music’s too loud to talk, so we dance.
She grinds on me, I grab her ass.
We sweat and kiss to the beat.
She tastes like ash and cheap perfume.
She asks me if I wanna fuck.
I say yeah, of course I do.

We stumble out, my car’s parked nearby.
I drive us to a motel on the edge of town.
Fumble with the key, the door’s sticky.
Bed smells like old sex and cigarettes.
I rip off her clothes, she pulls down my jeans.
I fuck her hard on that stained mattress.
Grunt and moan, claw and bite,
Reach the peak, come and die.

There’s a girl with an awesome ass
And a tight-fitting skirt,
Whose hips sway when she sways,
Whose tits sway when she sways.
Sometimes the front side of her is exposed
From underneath that shirt,
And if you were smart, you’d stop and stare
At her awesome ass and awesome tits.

I spot this girl at the bar, she’s a hot mess.
Black leather pants, red corset, fishnet top.
Tattoos on her arms, piercings on her face.
Hair’s bleached blonde, eyes are dead.
I tell her my name’s Eddie, I’m in sales,
And I’m just passing through this hell.
I buy her drinks, she gulps them fast.
She says she wants my dick inside her.

We fuck on the bed, we fuck on the floor.
She asks me if I have any coke.
I say I have some pills, she swallows them.
We fuck in the shower, water’s cold.

This brunette has a tattoo of a snake on her tit.
Her thick thighs shine in the bar’s light.
As we dance, she says a name I don’t retain.
I say mine’s Daniel, an architecture student.
I tell her I needed a break from school.
She says she needs a break from her boyfriend.

Bass thumping through my chest,
Sweat dripping down my face.
The girl’s a blur of hair and skin.
I kiss her neck, she bites my ear.
I take her to my car. Windows fog up fast.
Her legs are apart, ass high like a prize.

I’m a fucking wrecking ball
With a head full of holes.
I should’ve died years ago,
But I’m still kicking.
I need a bottle of whiskey,
A pack of smokes,
A dirty motel room,
And a night without dreams.

A girl with blue hair and a nose ring
Sits next to me, smiles, asks my name.
I’m Daniel the architect, I design buildings.
I design bridges, too, over troubled waters.
I tell her I love her style, her green eyes,
The way she licks her cherry-colored lips.

I’m Michael the traveler, I’ve seen the world.
I’m Joe the divorced man, looking for fun.
I’m whoever you want me to be, baby,
As long as you spread your legs.
I don’t give a shit about your name,
Or age or dreams or story.
You’re just another hole to fill
And leave sore and sorry.

I’ve got a dick, you got a cunt,
That’s how it works in this dump.
We’re all alone in the crowd.
I’m gonna drink ’til I drop.
I’m gonna fuck ’til I rot.

I get into a fight with some bikers
Outside the bar, over nothing.
Fists fly, blood spills, teeth break.
I get a black eye, a cut lip.

Call me Rex the Wrecker, I knock shit down.
I’m a tow-truck driver in a filthy town.
I got a leather jacket and a hungry eye,
And a pocket full of pills and lies.
I don’t have a dream, I have a bottle.
I don’t have a heart, I have a dick.
I like to drink and fight and fuck,
And then forget about it all.

I’ve got friends in low places.
I know who kills for fun.
I’m not afraid of anything,
‘Cause I’m already dead.
I don’t love you, I don’t like you,
I don’t even know your name.
I’m going to pump you full of cum,
Then dump you like a waste.

Horns on my head, hell in my throat.
A tail that swings, claws that scratch.
A roar that can raise the dead.
An antediluvian wrecking beast
Rampaging through this worthless world,
Stomping on the dance floor until dawn.
Hey, triceratops boy,
Where are you heading to now?