Same Old Vice

By Patrick Kozub

Old motel, half-lit sign, lonesome shadow in the failing light
broken windows, restless moon, anything goes in those darkened rooms

She stole his truck, pawned the ring, up in smoke, glass and flame
Cash ran out, she’d call him up, more and more till it ain’t enough

When this is all you know, and this is what you make
and this is what you want, what do I say?
Daylight breaks, blood will dry
Another turn, the same old vice

She cried his name from the second floor, silhouette in an open door
two men lunged from behind a van, knocked him cold ‘fore he stood a chance

They beat him down, left him in the ditch, the engine swore and the gravel kicked,
paid her debts, yeah he paid the price, cuz you never feel it till the grip’s too tight

When this is all you know, and this is what you make
and this is what you want, what do I say?
Daylight breaks, blood will dry
Another turn, the same old vice

Three days later, bleeding out, we found him hitching to the nearest town
‘Don’t you worry boys, she’s quittin now, she said’…

When this is all you know, and this is what you make
and this is what you want, what do I say?
Daylight breaks, blood will dry
Another turn, the same old vice

When this is all you know, and this is what it takes
and this is what you want, what do I say?
Daylight breaks, blood will dry
Another turn, the same old vice