Lyrics Guillotine - Jam Baxter

I was strung out and awake in a corner of north Hanoi
Having sapped every chemically traceable form of joy
Monsoon season's in session, I'm back at seven
If you're trying to find a way to get wasted, then call your boy
My drinking problem got abandonment issues
I passed it an absinthe and a handful of tissues
And told it, 'Come we hit the streets'
Freak
Fetch the fire blanket
Whip up an entire banquet, tell 'em the Messiah's landed
I piece the week together with my camera roll
Scroll back until my bug infested hands dissolve
Chicks hop across the city swapping gash for gold
I dialled the number, juiced her up
Poured a glass and drank her soul
Yeah, step aside while you wig shop
Gather 'round, kids, pull its wings off
Check the tape, the last hour's foggy
They just hit the lights and found us all passed out in the lobby
And the hotel staff must be sick of me now
Probably wanna get the guillotine out
I can't remember where I met this chick sprawled across my bed
And shit's getting ever stranger by the second, bitch, bitch
They must be sick of me now
Probably wanna get the guillotine out
'Oi, cuzzie, what city's this?'
Shot of straight liquor
Shit's getting ever weirder by the minute, bitch
I was puking off the back of a motorbike in the afternoon
My tailored white suit shines brightly in a darkened room
Wait next to what you can't consume
Yeah
Lap dances in the last chance saloon
And these rolling hills watch me as dumb, grumbling, neighbours
Eyes like malfunctioning lasers
Scattered all across the terrain, comfortably weightless
Legs like piles of dust in his trainers
Shit
Why'd you rap about shit you've never taken?
Bruh
You've never been in that situation
I saw his face pressed against the glass, spewing drool
The dried residues never left a mark, but it's cool
Yeah
We rang room service
Powder on this smooth surface, who can bend the rules furthest?
Curses
We lost him in the alley, Chief
The whisky in the waterworks is drawing out my aggy streak

The hotel staff must be sick of me now
Probably wanna get the guillotine out
I can't remember where I met this chick sprawled across my bed
And shit's getting ever stranger by the second, bitch, bitch
They must be sick of me now
Probably wanna get the guillotine out
'Oi, cuzzie, what city's this?'
Shot of straight liquor
Shit's getting ever weirder by the minute, bitch
They must be sick of me, sick of me
Probably wanna get guillotine, literally
I can't remember where I met you
But I still press you
Plus we got my whole stash to get through, get through (get through)
(Got the whole stash to get through, mountains
Whole stash to get through, mountains)
(Excuse me
Yes, sir?
A room, I'd like a room please
Single room, or a double room?
Anything wrong, sir?
What, no, nothing
Luggage? Yes, yes, I do)