Someone's husband pays your rent with stack and stacks of presidents They blow it like it's counterfeit believe me They'll feed you lines and alcohol and one by one they'll pay for all the little thing you do that make you sick You keep on running for your purse The waitress said it's getting worse Try and try you can't reverse it now And I said you do nothing but hurt me But you do it right, you do it right, you got it so right And I said you do nothing but hurt me But you do it right, you get it right, you got it so right Counting singles, fives and tens, the last call lights are back again But that won't stop the gentlemen believe me They got ashtray smiles and dirty eyes, you're not afraid to compromise, any virus in a shirt and tie can tell Keep on running for your purse The waitress Said it's getting worse Try and try you can't reverse it now I don't ever gamble, but I'd bet you fucking life is going, going, going, gone There's something you should know: there's so much you don't know Down in the alley behind your apartment We fall apart and we breathe it in I get off but I know that I'm just as bad as them Down in the alley behind your apartment You smoke and tell me it's nothing real Just something we need, just something to feel