Abney Park The Rum Talking

Well, I meant well

When I told him to go to hell

I can’t say that I’m always right

But that’s what I said that night

 

The drinks seemed to loosen my tongue

And everything he said unusually stung

So I told him to go to hell

I can’t say that night ended well

 

He broke a bottle on the edge of the bar

Took off my jacket and deuced my cigar

After kicking stools out of the way

Well, all the rest was child’s play

 

My face was red

My blood was hot

I wanted him dead

I wanted a lot

My face was red

My blood was hot

But was it the rum talking?

 

Pulled a Bowie knife from behind his back

So I spread my feet and prepared for attack

He ran across the room at top speed

That bastard wasn’t gonna see me bleed

 

Took to the side and I stepped out my boots

Meant to topple that horrible brute

But I slipped over and turned enraged

I want to see the night end in a cage

 

My face was red

My blood was hot

I wanted him dead

I wanted a lot

My face was red

My blood was hot

But was it the rum talking?

 

I grabbed that jackass, threw him out on the streets

But in an instant he was back on his feet

He took his Bowie knife and slashed at my gut

That’s when I noticed that his eyes were shut

 

Something behind me, ‘bout the size of a truck

Hit my assailant before me, thunderstruck

The road I was bounced to brought all life from the bar

I guess this battle wouldn’t get too far

 

My face was red

My blood was hot

I wanted him dead

I wanted a lot

My face was red

My blood was hot

But was it the rum talking?

 

My face was red

My blood was hot

I wanted him dead

I wanted a lot

My face was red

My blood was hot

But was it the rum talking?

Was it the rum talking?

Was it the rum talking?