Cold Poker Face

Raw delta blues stomp with slide guitar, stomping kick, and clapping on the backbeat, Female vocals, smoky and gritty, sit right in front of a dirty bottleneck riff; call-and-response backing hums on the chorus, Harmonica wails between lines, energy swings from hushed menace in the verses to a ragged shout on the hook, female vocals, delta blues

[Verse 1] He keeps that Bible Folded in the glovebox Baby Swears that he’s forgiven But his hands still shake at the table Whiskey on his collar Cheap cologne on the sheets Eyes like a card sharp Heart like a loaded piece [Chorus] He hid those sins behind a cold poker face Never let the truth touch the light of day Smile like a saint Breath like a grave He hid those sins behind a cold poker face [Verse 2] He talks about Sunday Like it’s some worn-out coat Says he left it hanging On a nail in the back of the porch But I seen his name On a motel sign-in page [low vocal register] Heard his laugh Through that too-thin staircase [Chorus] [Bridge] [whispered vocals] Tell me Dealer How many lies in the deck? Cut one more time See what falls What’s left [growled ad-lib] Turn over that heart Turn over that ace Every mark that he made Written clear on his face [Chorus]

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