Floating down the canals of the upper crust, they have got the keys to the south locked up

Smooth skin girls with no fake pearls just fake smiles aimed at me like charity to a poor child

From savannah to key west, I migrate south looking to rest

But my love’s like molasses in my chest, so slow to show I’ve made a mess

I dreamt of my death mask, mozak out of pain meds

I am the monster underneath my own bed