Текст песни Hangover Hotel - Lydia Lunch

Somebody broke in, but all that was missing were the Polaroids
The scene of the crime could be anywhere, at any time

And I'm always salivating about the maniac responsible
I, I know that to attack is merely the
Desire to free one's self from infatuation
That there's a thin line between a
Love tap and murder with a blunt instrument
That a sharp stick in the eye kills the Devil in the soul every time
And night after night,
Those hollow screams echo out through deserted parking lots
A paper oasis littered with lottery dreams

And I'm always lacerating myself with memories and the
Demented visions of some woe-begotten messenger of the lord
Who's now living down at the Hangover Hotel,
Where everybody's living hand-to-mouth trying to get ahead
But shit, a quick jaunt down to the corner store to pick up a 40 of
Colt 45, a fifth of Jack, a bottle of aspirin,
Half a dozen condoms and a carton of cigarettes
Will bring you down real hard by about fifty bucks
And then all you're left with is your
Dreams and you'll be dreaming amongst drunks
Yeah... dreaming.

Remembering the way it used to be... oh, the way it used to be.
Shit... the way it still is...
Dirt cheap deeds sloppily executed on sheet-less mattresses
Petty crimes of passion bringing secrets
To the surface with the blood and alcohol
The scene of crime could be anywhere, at any time