Sting Of The Gin - Magna Carta

There’s a cold rain falling from the sky above

and I’m lost as a woman on a drifter’s love

there’s a singin' in the wire, there’s a singin' in my head

and I can’t find my own way home

you can tell by the style and the cut of my clothes

I’ve seen better days god only knows

I’m like a one man bandit at the Alamo

Running from the guns again just running from the guns again

It’s in the bite of the whisky it’s in the kiss of the wine

it’s in the touch of Tequila or the fruit of the vine

but the very next morning, when you let yourself in

and she asks you what happened, you blame it on the sting of the gin

big man picking up a telephone

he’s got a woman in the city, got a woman at home

he waits for a line, then he hangs up in time

and reaches for the bottle again

you can lose your job and the money’s all gone

and it don’t look too good in the cold light of dawn

so you have a little drink, just to set you up again for tomorrow

It’s in the kick of the vodka it’s in the hush of the rye

sweet Amon-till-ado gently kiss you goodbye

it’s a way of forgetting, the state that you’re in

when no one believes you you blame it on the sting of the gin

sting of the gin