I saw your bloody face in an old bar with dusty chairs and old tables, somewhere in the woods of Tennessee

Your face smiled towards me, as I sat down by the fire - those black eyes just wouldn't stop looking at me

So I pulled out my gun and pointed it at you
"Son, that smile will be gone in some way or another"

"Jesus Christ", you said and started dancing on the bar
Waving your hands at my direction while that poison laugh dripped from your hazardous lips

"I am not playing games here", I told him as my hands started shaking
But you kept on dancing in front of me, didn't give a shit

And the people around us started laughing, as they glanced at me
Shaking their big heads and whispering things to one and another

Fearless, I thought and loaded my gun
"Why are you laughing at me? Look at the jerk over there!"

So a bottle of beer came flying in my direction and landed on my forehead
Fuck, shit, motherfu... That hurts!

I could feel the blood on my lips and the crowd stopped laughing
"Why aren't you laughing now? Huh?"

I stood there, on the bar, with the bottle of beer in my hand and couldn't understand a god damn thing

Now I don't mind being a little bit crazy from time to time,
but never in a million years did I think that I was that motherfucking jerk,
dancing like a clown with a dumb smile on my face

"Sir, you need to leave. You are ill."
"Where? Here?" The blood felt warm on my fingers.
"No, up there..."

The waitress pointed to my head and started walking away from me
and the last thing I saw before the gun was put to my head and everything became black,

Was an old man drinking a Jack and Coke, while he was mocking me, putting his tongue outside his mouth and giving me the middle finger

Aw, fuck this, I thought
and then I died

C'est la vie