

Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Ash on my shirt Cheap bourbon on my breath Rust on this old six-string And a bet I ain't paid yet There’s a hole in the ceiling From a bullet I don't recall Dealer grinning in the corner As another good hand falls [Chorus] Smoking gun Hot barrel memory Whiskey tongue Won't tell the truth for me Blues in my fingers Blood on my shoes Sax man crying while this guitar bruises Smoking gun I can't outrun these blues [Verse 2] She left in my jacket Took the keys and the Sunday light My name’s carved in the bar rail From our last Long losing fight Now every crooked mirror Shows a man I half believe Pull that trigger on the bottle 'cause it's the only way I leave [Chorus] Smoking gun Hot barrel memory Whiskey tongue Won't tell the truth for me Blues in my fingers Blood on my shoes Sax man crying while this guitar bruises Smoking gun I can't outrun these blues [Bridge] [Band drops down Just guitar and vocal] Cards on the table Hands start to shake Sirens in the distance Or just my own mistakes [Saxophone slides in Low and moaning] If the law comes through that doorway Or the past comes through that door I'll raise this glass like a white flag Then I'll reach down for one more (yeah) [Chorus] Smoking gun Hot barrel memory Whiskey tongue Won't tell the truth for me Blues in my fingers Blood on my shoes Sax man crying while this guitar bruises Smoking gun I can't outrun these blues Smoking gun I can't outrun These blues
Tags
Smoky backroom bar-band blues with male vocals; slow 12/8 groove, brushed snare and dusty upright bass. Gritty slide guitar answering the vocal lines, raunchy sax riffs filling the spaces. Chorus swells with gang-style shouts and raw harmonies, final verse strips back to voice and guitar before the sax wails the song out., saxophone, blues
5:28
No
2/27/2026