Tough Luck

by L. $hamPain

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There’s dirt under our nails — don’t pretend you’re surprised.
We claw, we scratch for crumbs… like the stray cats you kick aside.
There’s ash where I once stood, and a dead cigarette.
Somehow I’m always third on a match, and it’s always one you lit.

It’s tough luck
Nothing else to it
Just dumb damn luck.
Dumb damn luck…
Nothing else to it
Just dumb damn luck.

You lost your way again sitting on the bleachers.
Home really ain’t that far… but when light turns to dark, it feels farther…
Whole lot farther.

Well, tough luck.
Nothing else to it
Just dumb damn luck.
Just dumb damn luck.
Nothing nobody can do about it.
It’s just my dumb damn luck.
Dumb damn luck…
Dumb damn luck…
Dumb damn luck…
Dumb damn luck…
Dumb damn luck.
Damn luck.

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released May 26, 2017
Written & recorded by L. $hamPain

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L. $hamPain Texas

Sounds like... Howard Hughes’ mind on a steamy summer night in 1936, electrified with champaign-soaked bubbles & all of his neurons synapsing endlessly between light & dark, Las Vegas & solitude, being the predator & being the prey.

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