I just found me a bottle of blues,
  some strange comfort for a soul to soothe,
  ain't it hard, ain't it hard,
  to want somebody who doesn't want you?
  
  And I been waiting for a year, a day,
  some strange weather must be blowing my way,
  'cause I got no mind
  to go or to stay or be left behind.
  
  Holding hands with an impotent dream,
  in a brothel of fake energy,
  put a nickel in a graveyard machine,
  I get higher and lower,
  I get higher and lower,
  like a tired soldier
  with nothing to shoot,
  and nowhere to lose
  this bottle of blues.
  
  Egos drone and pose alone,
  like black balloons, all banged and blown,
  on a backwoods river,
  the infidels shiver in the stench of belief.
  
  And tell my momma I'm a hundred years late,
  I'm over the rails and out of the race,
  and the crippled psalms
  of an age that won't thaw are ringing in my ears.
  
  Holding hands with an impotent dream,
  in a brothel of fake energy,
  put a nickel in a graveyard machine,
  I get higher and lower,
  I get higher and lower,
  like a tired soldier
  with nothing to shoot,
  and nowhere to lose
  this bottle of blues.
  
  Well, I just found me a bottle of blues,
  some strange comfort for a soul to soothe,
  ain't it hard, ain't it hard,
  to want somebody who doesn't want you?
  
  Holding hands with an impotent dream,
  in a brothel of fake energy,
  put a nickel in a graveyard machine,
  I get higher and lower,
  I get higher and lower,
  like a tired soldier
  with nothing to shoot,
  and nowhere to lose
  this bottle of blues,
  bottle of blues.