Black Beehive

Twenty-seven years old

She could not keep control

Of her broken-hearted soul

And the reckless way she go

Shaking that gutter tambourine

And a 57 microphone

Black beehive, tattooed arms

Singing that soul song can’t go on

Red flower in her hair

Tragic twenty-seven she rolls like

Janis and Jimi running down drinks

Black beehive I miss you so

Sassy as any supreme, her eyes as black as coal

Walked away and the sun went down

Singin’ that soul song till no one’s around

Back to black was

Her kind of rhythm and blues

Fade out to black was

Her kind of rhythm and blues

Lay your lamp down low

Suicide doors on that Lincoln

Take in that final drag, well

You’re so intoxicating

And the evening’s afterglow

Turns into a bad hangover

Black beehive

Ten thousand demons

You cheated yourself but you had your reasons

Back to black was

Her kind of rhythm and blues

Fade out to black was

Her kind of rhythm and blues

Back to black

She had nothing but the whole world to lose

Fade out to black was

Her kind of rhythm and blues