Sitting here wasted and wounded at this old piano Trying hard to capture the moment this morning I don't know 'Cause a bottle of vodka still lodged in my head And some blond gave me nightmares I think that he's still in my bed As I dream about movies they won't make of me when I'm dead With an ironclad fist I wake up and French kiss the morning While some marching band keeps its own beat in my head While we're talking About all of the things that I long to believe About love and the truth and what you mean to me And the truth is baby you're all that I need I want to lay you down on a bed of roses For tonite I sleep on a bed on nails I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is And lay you down on bed of roses Well I'm so far away each step that I take is on my own