There's a killer loose: whisky, wine and beer.
They kill a hundred thousand people every year.
Grass is much safer; hardly ever kills at all,
But it's got one problem you won't get with alcohol:
That's the narco blues. The narco blues.
You better stick to booze or else you'll get the narco blues.

You can come home drunk and beat up on your wife.
Beat your children black and blue and you won't get no strife.
But smoke a little pot, mellow down to get some peace,
And you're gonna get a visit from a whole lot of police.
That's the narco blues. The narco blues.
You better stick to booze or else you'll get the narco blues.

This gang of long haired goons came smashing down my door.
They put a gun into my face and knocked me to the floor.
I remembered Charlie Manson. I thought that I was dead.
Then somebody said: "It's the wrong address," and I knew it was the Feds.
I had the narco blues. The narco blues.
You better stick to booze or else you'll get the narco blues.

The Neon Princess smiles a smile that's numb with nothingness,
Her eyes a sea of molten masquerade.
She moves her mouth in greeting and she kisses you to show
You are welcome to her gruesome, small parade.

But her words have little meaning
And her kisses have no feeling
And she doesn't really see you there at all.
For her neon youth is flying
And she knows there's no use crying
And she doesn't really care which way she falls.

The Neon Princess drinks the beer you buy her on the sly,
But she's tasting mead in an Arthurian dream,
And, tho she sits beside you on a bench against the wall,
She sees herself beside a Scottish stream.

And she goes on with her dreaming
Tho she knows what you are scheming,
For your hands are asking silent questions of her.
For her neon world is dying
And she knows there's no use crying
And she doesn't really care who is her lover.

The Neon Princess climbs the stairs up to the room you show her,
Her feet reluctant to the work of walking.
And she takes the drink you offer and she nibbles at your ear,
And you know she doesn't feel too much like talking.

And you think you know her yearning
For your own lust is a-burning
But that isn't really what she feels at all.
It's just, her neon world is dying
And she knows there's no use crying,
And she doesn't really care which way she falls.

Tho the Neon Princess burns you with the presence of her body,
You feel the passion of the moment go,
For, tho she's there beside you, her presence is a chore,
For her spirit left her body long ago.

So you finish what you've started
But you do it now half hearted,
For you know she doesn't feel you there above her.
And you know that you are plying
A princess who is dying,
Who doesn't really care who is her lover.

And she's gone now, and you're lonely, but you know you do not miss her,
For she was gone before you found her on the corner.
And you know that she's a martyr, a phantom orphan in the night,
And you know that no one else will ever mourn her.

The Neon Princess is defiled,
She's a lost and a lonely child,
Who'll come to anyone who cares to call.
And she's done her share of crying
For her neon world that's dying,
And she knows there's nothing left now but to fall.

I'm working on a new heartache, baby don't you pay me no mind.
You don't want to get yourself a big stake in what I'm hoping to find.
I'm working on a new heartache. I'm working on a new heartache. I'm working on a new heartache.

I'm working on a new heartache, baby don't you refuse.
You got a lot of what it will take to give me a bad case of the blues.
I'm working on a new heartache. I'm working on a new heartache. I'm working on a new heartache.

I'm working on a new heartache, baby won't you come over here.
You can give me your emotional outtakes but you better not get too near.
I'm working on a new heartache. I'm working on a new heartache. I'm working on a new heartache.

I'm working on a new heartache, baby please don't you refuse.
You got a lot of what it will take to give me a beautiful case of the blues.
I'm gonna write a lot of songs about you, baby, when you're gone.
I'm working on a new heartache. I'm working on a new heartache. I'm working on a new heartache.

Ah, girl, I thought there'd never be a next one.
Ah, girl, I thought that we were gonna last.
But there you go and here I stay,
Waiting for a better day,
And the next one, the next one.

For years, girl, I taught myself to be your lover.
For years, and now you want to be just friends.
But that's not what I was praying for
Staring hard at my front door,
But the next one, the next one.

She's gonna get herself a bargain cause I've seen so many miles.
My odometer is broken. All I can do is smile.
I gave up fancy answers, I let those questions pass,
And even when she hurts me, I've trained myself to laugh.

The next one's gonna get herself a good deal,
Cause I taught myself to love you with no strings.
The next one, she is bound to be
All those things you promised me.
Yeah, the next one, the next one.
Ah, girl, I thought there'd never be a next one.

There is nothing but the music. The music never dies.
There is nothing but the music. The music never lies.

You are one. I am one. We are one together.
Yesterday, tomorrow never comes.
Reach out. Reach in. We are one together.
You are one. I am one. Goodbye.

There is nothing but the music. The music never dies.
There is nothing but the music. The music never lies.

Laughing. Crying. Both of them together.
Winning. Losing. They're the same.
My side. Your side. Neither of them matters.
When the word's not "love," the word's "goodbye."

There is nothing but the music. The music never dies.
There is nothing but the music. The music never lies.