Warren Zevon
The French Inhaler
Written by Warren Zevon
How're you going to make your way in the world 
When you weren't cut out for working 
When your fingers are slender and frail 
How're you going to get around
In this sleazy bedroom town 
If you don't put yourself up for sale
Where will you go with your scarves and your miracles 
Who's gonna know who you are 
Drugs and wine and flattering light 
You must try it again till you get it right 
Maybe you'll end up with someone different every night
All these people with no home to go home to
They'd all like to spend the night with you 
Maybe I would, too
But tell me 
How're you going to make your way in the world, woman
When you weren't cut out for working 
And you just can't concentrate 
And you always show up late
You said you were an actress 
Yes, I believe you are 
I thought you'd be a star 
So I drank up all the money,
Yes, I drank up all the money,
With these phonies in this Hollywood bar,
These friends of mine in this Hollywood bar
Loneliness and frustration 
We both came down with an acute case 
And when the lights came up at two
I caught a glimpse of you
And your face looked like something 
Death brought with him in his suitcase
Your pretty face
It looked so wasted 
Another pretty face 
Devastated 
The French Inhaler 
He stamped and mailed her 
"So long, Norman" 
She said, "So long, Norman"
From Paroles Mania