“Velvet Tongue”

Verse 1

Fog hangs low on crooked stone,

Whiskey hearts and tired cologne,

Cards slap hard on splintered wood,

Nobody behaving good.

Then silk sways through the lantern haze,

Scarlet lips and knowing gaze,

Feather gloves and silver lace,

Every eye turns to the face.

Pre-Chorus

Oh, the room bends when you smile,

Sharp enough to wound in style,

Every sinner leans in close,

Just to hear another dose.

Chorus