When did what was right become all that was wrong?
Was it because of the rock and roll I lived so long?
You said it was you but I'm no fool.
Your lies that hide a painful truth.
Does suffering help, will it take away the memory?
Or do jazz and blues just spell out all that you meant to me?
Will you be down, will you cry?
Will I be gone in a month, a week, a day?
Friends that stay, long for the me of old.
Longing for a return of my power soul.
Your picture in me fades like the evening sun.
But my heart still bleeds as the road goes on.
I know I must heal, I know I must see.
That it's lonely here in this gothic country.
There has to be a light, a signal, a sign.
Because despite it's cliches, I want to feel fine.
All the whiskey, smokes and bitterness won't help me I know.
They just take me on a trip to Blue Mexico.
The blank smiles of friends, the whispers, the silence.
Mean nothing next to my empty passion.
And then It all comes down to one mere truth.
That I'm tired of these sunset blues....... Of me without you.
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