[Song adapted from this tidbit in a book I am writing. These places, these dive bars, these hole in the wall bars, so contrasted from my youth growing up in a conservative Keynesian suburb of ____, Michigan. Spending time in these bars was like visiting a cheap candy store of opulence where I was able to sample misery, skullduggery, thievery, prostitution, pimpism, druggies and drug dealers all the while, while maintaining clean hands and a clean but cloudy soul. It definitely, definitely was not a boring world. And I liked the visual buffet line offered up by them in the decline. Refill please. Is there ever enough roadkill in the buffet line of life? For me I knew the answer was no. But I was no predator or lazy slacker vulture. No for me, life was just my TV screen and some channels amused me more than others. Decay and decline, now that’s where the stories are. Redemption, that’s the candy, but we all know what that tastes like, but decay and decline, yeah, that’s where the whodunit stories lay buried, and I loved that smell more than the lily white smell of redemption.] Verse 1 I spent my days beneath fluorescent lights, Punching someone else’s clock, Driving home through rows of houses That all looked like the one next door. Everybody chasing something, Everybody running late, But somewhere underneath the living I could feel my own decay. So I found a little watering hole Where the neon barely glowed, Where the jukebox played the soundtrack To the lives nobody chose. And I pulled up to the barstool Like a man who’s found his church, And I watched the human wreckage Doing what the wreckage does. Chorus I’m a watering hole vampire, I don’t come here for the beer. I come to watch the broken people Make their broken lives disappear. I don’t drink their blood, I drink their stories, Every failure, every scar. Their misery makes mine look smaller From the other side of the bar. Yeah, I’m a watering hole vampire, And I know just what I am. I feed upon the fallen While pretending that I don’t. Verse 2 There was a woman nursing whiskey Like it owed her something back, A man who talked about his glory Like his glory left last week. There were lovers getting even, There were strangers getting high, There were people selling pieces Of themselves to get by. There were thieves and there were dreamers, There were liars dressed as saints, There were people drowning slowly Who had learned to love the taste. And I never passed a judgment, At least that’s what I told myself. I was only there observing, Putting misery on a shelf. Chorus I’m a watering hole vampire, I don’t come here for the beer. I come to watch the broken people Make their broken lives disappear. I don’t drink their blood, I drink their stories, Every failure, every scar. Their misery makes mine look smaller From the other side of the bar. Yeah, I’m a watering hole vampire, And I know just what I am. I feed upon the fallen While pretending that I don’t. Verse 3 Maybe I’m no better than them, Maybe that’s the strangest part. I just found a different doorway Into the same old dark. They were hiding from their demons, I was hiding from mine too. They were drowning in their whiskey, I was escaping in the view. I didn’t come to save them, I didn’t come to set them straight. I came to see how people Turn their suffering into fate. How a man can lose his compass Then convince himself he’s free, How somebody can live forever Inside what used to be. Bridge Some people come for redemption, Some come looking for a fight, Some come just to kill an evening, Some come hoping to survive the night. Me, I came for the stories, For the places people fall, ’Cause somewhere in their wreckage I could recognize us all. Verse 4 So refill that visual buffet, Let the roadkill have its day. There’s a thousand little mysteries In the lives we throw away. Redemption’s always pretty, Everybody knows that song, But decay has hidden chapters Where the real stories belong. And maybe it’s disturbing That I find some comfort there, Watching strangers lose themselves While I pretend that I don’t care. But I never called them losers, And I never called them fools. I just wanted to understand The strange things people do. Final Chorus I’m a watering hole vampire, And I’ve been coming here for years. I drink the smoke and desperation, I drink the laughter through the tears. I don’t drink their blood, I drink their stories, Every secret at the bar. Their misery makes mine look smaller And reminds me where we are. Yeah, I’m a watering hole vampire, With a clean shirt and a cloudy soul. I sit among the dying Just to prove I’m still whole. But every night I walk out Wondering which one of us is dead… And which one of us Just hasn’t noticed yet. Outro Neon buzzing… Last call ringing… Everybody’s got somewhere to go. Me? I’ll be back tomorrow. Same watering hole. Same ghosts. Different stories Fresh roadkill for the soul.
