The Monologue Bombs - The Nightingale Routine

Well my line comes down from a Northwest town suffocating in the lowland firs
Ma worked the burn unit up at St. Raphael's and came home to call the old man "sir"
Well I swore on those holy pines I'd never end up like her
So I scraped up the cash and I jetted out fast, hit the restaurant raids in the South
I took sad counter boys to my bed every night, taught 'em what mercy was all about
And I'd cross myself with relief every time they walked out
Yeah, but Cal was an angel with jet-black bangs, just moaning on a one-foot stage
I dragged him to the fields where the vans stall out and got him ribcage to ribcage
And in the heat of the hardest promises, we set those fields ablaze
And the stars fell dim
And his scorch was soothing
And with a sigh and a shudder I let him in
Well the weeks rained down and I got lost in the sound of my black-haired angel's song
We'd dance in his kitchen, nod off on my porch, light the candles and kiss till dawn
But I could never stomach something that sweet for too long
Now it's girls' night out and the dance floor's soaked with shadows at the Lazy Star
Some Romeo clocks me, he's as pretty as sin, leaning over me at the bar
Sometimes all it takes is a story, a smile and a decent scar
And he strokes my wrist
As I bite my lip
And the room and the lights and the bottles all start to drift
Grab my phone buzzing off my hip, Cal's asking me if I'm okay
Romeo's warm and closing in, and I can hear my Mama say
"You better bring him some water, girl, or let him burn away"

Written by:
Scott Phillips

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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