8 Roses. (Addison/ Singh). . Night's falling on the off ramp. Trucks roll by above me on the road. And the sun is melting into the buildings. Everybody's rushing to get on home.
In fair silver city on the blind side of fate. I grew up to manhood on the narrow and straight. But prideful i stumbeled, and foolish i fell. In the silken fine trammels of a cruel yankee belle.
236-6132 is the number of my love. Even though it's been some time since he made fair to answer. 'Cause he feints and fades from view like a fighter ducks a glove.
50 DOLLARS AND A FLASK OF CROWN. . I GRAB MY STETSON AND I PULL IT DOWN.. I ROPE THE DEVIL RIDE'M INTO TOWN. WITH 50 DOLLARS AND A FLASK OF CROWN (HUP!).