Huntsmen Atlantic City
A long hot Indian summer
Poolside white girl tans
She got her claws into me early that summer
Toenails like talons, sparkling in the sand
Atlantic City, winding back alley streets
Her wrist in my hand, on the run, clutching my gun
We left our souls open and willing to the heart of a fray not yet exposed
And all along the beach, sharks washed up, teeth strewn around, bleached by the sun
Watch where you're walking, there's blood in the sand
Watch where you're walking, this gun in my hand...
Love, wait for me, I'm almost home
Save my place at hearth of stone
Don't wait for me, I'm almost gone
Take my place when winter comes
