Another Whorehouse Blues (Inspired by Motörhead’s song)

+ Show full styles

Coins roll empty, the bottle’s dry,  
The bed’s still warm but the moon’s gone high.

Now I’m back on the street with a hole in my shoes,  
No crown, no cloak, just the devil’s own dues.  
The lights fade out like a bad tattoo,  
And I’m howlin’ alone Another Whorehouse Blues.

Her red-lit parlour, my last confession,  
Paid in cash for a cheap obsession.  
The girls spin tales like a gambler’s hand,  
But the house always wins I don’t understand.  
One more shot to drown the shame,  
One more name I won’t recall the next day.  
The clock screams noon through a bourbon haze,  
And the mirror spits back a stranger’s face.

The stairs creak louder than my pride,  
The door slams shut on the other side.

Now I’m back on the street with a hole in my shoes,  
No crown, no cloak, just the devil’s own dues.  
The lights fade out like a bad tattoo,  
And I’m howlin’ alone Another Whorehouse Blues.

The jukebox ghosts hum a dead man’s tune,  
Cigarette burns on a bankrupt moon.  
She’ll kiss you sweet but she’ll steal your name,  
And leave you nothin’ but the blues to claim.

The neon cross above the bed,  
Ain’t no saviour for the things I’ve fed.  
Her hips like scripture, my damnation’s creed,  
A sermon of sweat and a sinner’s need.  
The money’s gone and so’s the high,  
The mattress laughs as I say goodbye.  
The city yawns like a hungry cur,  
And I’m just another bone to her.

The stars don’t wink for fools like me,  
Just the alley cats and the cold, cold breeze.

Now I’m back on the street with a hole in my shoes,  
No crown, no cloak, just the devil’s own dues.  
The lights fade out like a bad tattoo,  
And I’m howlin’ alone Another Whorehouse Blues.

The velvet curtains part like a lover's sigh,  
Madame's eyes gleam, promising the sky.  
Drinks flow golden, laughs echo wild,  
Girls swirl around me, every touch beguiled.  
I'm a god in shadows, wallet my scepter bold,  
Pleasures unfold in stories untold.  
But the door swings wide to the cruel dawn's glare,  
Power crumbles to dust, leaving despair.

The stars don’t wink for fools like me,  
Just the alley cats and the cold, cold breeze.

Now I’m back on the street with a hole in my shoes,  
No crown, no cloak, just the devil’s own dues.  
The lights fade out like a bad tattoo,  
And I’m howlin’ alone Another Whorehouse Blues.

The Madame’s light burns one more night,  
Another prince crawls in, another fool takes flight.  
The blues don’t care who you used to be,  
They just laugh and say, "Pay the fee."

2889/7500

The Madame’s grin like a blade in the light, She pours me whiskey, says, "Choose your night." Silk and perfume, the air so thick, Every damn one of ‘em knows the trick. Gold-tooth smiles, but it ain’t for free, Laughs like church bells, hell-bound for me. I’m king for a hour, my throne’s her thigh But dawn’s got claws, and it’s time to die. Coins roll empty, the bottle’s dry, The bed’s still warm but the moon’s gone high. Now I’m back on the street with a hole in my shoes, No crown, no cloak, just the devil’s own dues. The lights fade out like a bad tattoo, And I’m howlin’ alone Another Whorehouse Blues. Her red-lit parlour, my last confession, Paid in cash for a cheap obsession. The girls spin tales like a gambler’s hand, But the house always wins I don’t understand. One more shot to drown the shame, One more name I won’t recall the next day. The clock screams noon through a bourbon haze, And the mirror spits back a stranger’s face. The stairs creak louder than my pride, The door slams shut on the other side. Now I’m back on the street with a hole in my shoes, No crown, no cloak, just the devil’s own dues. The lights fade out like a bad tattoo, And I’m howlin’ alone Another Whorehouse Blues. The jukebox ghosts hum a dead man’s tune, Cigarette burns on a bankrupt moon. She’ll kiss you sweet but she’ll steal your name, And leave you nothin’ but the blues to claim. The neon cross above the bed, Ain’t no saviour for the things I’ve fed. Her hips like scripture, my damnation’s creed, A sermon of sweat and a sinner’s need. The money’s gone and so’s the high, The mattress laughs as I say goodbye. The city yawns like a hungry cur, And I’m just another bone to her. The stars don’t wink for fools like me, Just the alley cats and the cold, cold breeze. Now I’m back on the street with a hole in my shoes, No crown, no cloak, just the devil’s own dues. The lights fade out like a bad tattoo, And I’m howlin’ alone Another Whorehouse Blues. The velvet curtains part like a lover's sigh, Madame's eyes gleam, promising the sky. Drinks flow golden, laughs echo wild, Girls swirl around me, every touch beguiled. I'm a god in shadows, wallet my scepter bold, Pleasures unfold in stories untold. But the door swings wide to the cruel dawn's glare, Power crumbles to dust, leaving despair. The stars don’t wink for fools like me, Just the alley cats and the cold, cold breeze. Now I’m back on the street with a hole in my shoes, No crown, no cloak, just the devil’s own dues. The lights fade out like a bad tattoo, And I’m howlin’ alone Another Whorehouse Blues. The Madame’s light burns one more night, Another prince crawls in, another fool takes flight. The blues don’t care who you used to be, They just laugh and say, "Pay the fee."

0/500