"The French Inhaler" lyrics
Shooter Jennings & The Werewolves of Los Angeles Lyrics
(originally by Warren Zevon)
How're you going to make your way in the world, woman
When you ain'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 do it again 'til you get it right
Maybe you'll end up with someone different every night
All these people with no home to go home to
And they all want to spend the night with you
Maybe I do too
How're you going to make your way in the world, woman
When you ain't cut out for working?
And you just can't concentrate
And you always show up late
You said you were an actress
I believe you are
I-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
With 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 good look of you
And your face looked like something
Death brought with him in his suitcase
Your pretty face, it seemed so wasted
Another pretty face devastated
The French Inhaler
He stamped and mailed her
"So long, Norman"
"So long, Norman"
When you ain'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 do it again 'til you get it right
Maybe you'll end up with someone different every night
All these people with no home to go home to
And they all want to spend the night with you
Maybe I do too
How're you going to make your way in the world, woman
When you ain't cut out for working?
And you just can't concentrate
And you always show up late
You said you were an actress
I believe you are
I-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
With 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 good look of you
And your face looked like something
Death brought with him in his suitcase
Your pretty face, it seemed so wasted
Another pretty face devastated
The French Inhaler
He stamped and mailed her
"So long, Norman"
"So long, Norman"
