Ran out of gas on Route 82, Texarkana to Louisiana. Only gas station open, Where I'm heading to, On the edge of a swamp town, That Katrina had battered. Station is closed, With a sign saying "Out of gas, And all out of a hope in hell." Guess I'm booking a room tonight, At this dump called the Starlust motel. Room looked like it's made for a porn shoot, And the manager's behind the camera, He said to me; "Get your tits out, you'll get a discount", You look like you can go for hours, A girl with stamina." I told him that life ain't for me, And I ain't staying here long. He said; "Girl, you fool you're stranded now, This is where you really belong." Stranded, Like I'll be here for years, Stranded, No phone credit and the ATM dishes out nothin, But paper tears, Moths in my purse, The night's only getting worse, Stranded in this shitty dying city, Where the gators congregate, And only the whores stay pretty. The waterfront docks are rotting, As the dampness seeps into its pores, I look for a boat to get a ride out, But every one I look at, Is leaking, Peppered with bullet holes. I couldn't paddle with it anyhow, Someone's stolen the freakin' oars, "Buffy, you fool you're stranded now, On these poisoned Backwaters shores." Stranded, Like I'll be here for years, Stranded, No phone credit and the ATM dishes out nothin, But paper tears, Moths in my purse, The night's only getting worse, Stranded in this shitty dying city, Where the gators congregate, And only the whores stay pretty.
