[Is_MAX_MODE: MAX](MAX) [QUALITY: MAX](MAX) [REALISM: MAX](MAX) [REAL_INSTRUMENTS: MAX](MAX) [REAL_VOCALS: MAX](MAX) [INTRO, slow shuffle after-hours, sparse electric guitar fills, soft brushed drums, deep walking bass, dim club atmosphere] [noises of a smoky American bar, noises of glasses] [VERSE 1, lead vocal low, tired, spoken-sung] A glass of scotch slow in my hand Jack looks at me says: “Man… you gotta understand” [VERSE 2, lead vocal slightly melodic, resigned] My old friend Jack told me he can’t give me credit no more oh no… no more credit not today… not anymore [CHORUS, lead vocal weary, almost whispered] No more credit, Jack that’s what you told me today No more credit, Jack yeah… that’s what you say [VERSE 3, lead vocal half-spoken, bitter] I drank the last damn sip slid down from that bar stool I said: “Who you takin’ me for?” don’t… treat me like a fool [SOLO, electric guitar slow blues solo, wide bends, lots of space] [VERSE 4, lead vocal soft, reflective] I’ll pay you, Jack I’ll get your damn dollars soon I dug into my pockets under that dirty neon moon [CHORUS, lead vocal lower, more tired] No more credit, Jack that’s what you told me today No more credit, Jack yeah… that’s what you say [VERSE 5, lead vocal wavering, bluff fading] I ain’t got it now, Jack but tomorrow I’ll be fine I wagged my finger at him said: “Tomorrow… you’ll see” [BRIDGE, minimal groove, bass and brushes only] When he tried to grab my arm man… I slipped away ran straight back home had one last thing to say [VERSE 6, lead vocal breaking, almost pleading] Listen to me, Ma… lend me twenty dollars, please Listen to me, Ma… just help your boy breathe [DROP, full stop, voice only, cold] She said: “Fuck you, Frank.” “I ain’t your bank.” [FINAL CHORUS, lead vocal flat, defeated, band barely holding] Get yourself a job get yourself a place Get yourself a job yeah… a place of your own [OUTRO, long instrumental fade, guitar crying softly, last word spoken] Yeah…
