Blowtorch Paroles

have kept me running on fumes
now I'll call you in November
don't expect to see me soon

I wrote a letter to your mother
said give her a kiss for me
I'm not in San Francisco proper
and I'm not with Miss Marie

keep your distance, sweetheart
don't get a whiff of this disease
it'll have you on the ropes
before it has you on your knees

not quite so nice
don't ask me twice
those words turn (piss) to ice

I took a blowtorch to the candle
now I'm screaming down the phone can't stay on one thought too long
just put a flower on my tombstone
have a chuckle when I'm gone