[Intro] [Vintage shellac vinyl crackle, solo upright bass walking a dark swing line] [Finger snaps on 2 and 4, muted trumpet slide, sudden punchy brass swell] [Verse 1] [Smooth cocktail lounge crooner, slick suave baritone, deadpan Vegas lounge singer] Tucked in the gloom, no air in the room, Pasteboards slappin’ on a scorched pine rail. Smoke on the drape, no easy escape, Trapped down under with a ghost on bail. Double-breasted gent with a needle-sharp crease, Unfolds a pack wrapped in mortuary gauze— No silver on the table, no copper to fleece, Just a cold grey ledger for the company laws. (What’s the ante?) Shovel in the dirt! (What’s the buy-in?) Meat under your shirt! Thirty hard summers laid flat on the green, Colder than a switchblade scrapin' in between! [Pre-Chorus 1] [Building snare rolls, polyrhythmic accents, brass rising in pitch] Rattle in the leather cup, let the ivory roll, Tumbler frosted where the condensation froze. Brass starts a-groanin' down the boiler-room floor— Nothin' left to wager but the breath in your nose! [Drum fill] [Sudden drop] [Chorus 1] [Massive wall of sound, down-tuned distorted guitars locked with brass stabs] [Swung double-kick groove, roaring melodic death metal gang vocals] ROLL THEM BONES! CALL THE PLAY! BLOW THE LUCKY DUST AWAY! SPLIT THE PAIR! DOUBLE DOWN! BIGGEST HIGH-ROLLER IN THIS LOW-DOWN TOWN! HEY! CASH THE CHIT! HEY! PAY THE BILL! THE HOUSE GETS FAT WHILE THE BLOOD RUNS CHILL! [Post-Chorus Transition] [Ringing guitar feedback, slow swung decay, brushed snare returns] [Verse 2] [Smoky jazz club crooner, low rich baritone, relaxed behind the beat, finger-snapping lounge delivery] Stogie burned down to a dirty grey nub... Ain't no backdoor in a cellar-floor club. Forty more winters pushed across the baize, Counted out like gristle on a butcher-shop scale. Says to keep my chin up while the lights start to haze, Never seen a banker look so paper-skin pale. Left wrist is quiet, not a twitch in the vein, Spill another drop just to cover up the stain. [Pre-Chorus 2] [Tempo ramps up, frantic syncopated snare, harsh barked vocals] Clock runs slack, shadow on the back, Seven inches tall where the curtains pinch. Pockets bled dry, spit in his eye, Sign another mortgage for a dying-man's inch! Shoe leather sticking where the kerosene spread— Draft from the cellar smelling heavy like lead! [Snare roll crescendo] [Sudden drop] [Chorus 2] [Full-bore wall of sound, melodic death metal swing, aggressive gang shouts] ROLL THEM BONES! CALL THE PLAY! BLOW THE LUCKY DUST AWAY! SPLIT THE PAIR! DOUBLE DOWN! BIGGEST HIGH-ROLLER IN THIS LOW-DOWN TOWN! HEY! CASH THE CHIT! HEY! PAY THE BILL! THE HOUSE GETS FAT WHILE THE BLOOD RUNS CHILL! [Bridge] [Intimate dry crooner vocal close to the mic, suave spoken lounge delivery, velvety vibrato] Check the coat. Pockets bare... Gentleman sits easy in his velvet-backed chair. Draws a little smoke... blows it thin and flat. "Check is signed, mister. Leave the coat and the hat." [Brushed snare begins a nervous shuffle, feedback swells] One more shake. Just... one... more... roll! [Sharp pick scrape, sudden cut into silence] [Breakdown] [Heavy half-time swung chugs, dissonant brass stabs, syncopated stops] (STOMP!) POCKETS EMPTY! [Detuned low-end chug] (STOMP!) COUNT THE SEAMS! [Sub-bass drop] WAKE UP CHOKING IN THE STEAM! [Stacked Breakdown - Maximum Weight] [Slower, brutal post-hardcore gang roar, wall of distortion] DEBT! COLLECTED! MARROW! STRIPPED! EVERY! PROMISE! TIGHTLY! GRIPPED! [Climax] [Swung double-kick surge, screaming guitar feedback] CHOKE THE SPARK AND CHIP THE BONE! LEAVE THE MEAT TO ROT ALONE! [Full-band unison crash, abrupt tape-stop cutoff] [Silence] [End]
