Blood On My Hands - Keren Ann

Grand hotel suites were my home

Men at my feet, limousines in the street

First class to Paris and Rome

He walked unannounced through my dressing room door

And then from a case, if you will

He pulled out a Winchester pre-64

And said,"Are you ready to kill?"

Then there was blood on my shoes

There was blood on my makeup

There was blood on the ceiling

There was blood on the piano

There was blood on my microphone

There was blood on my fans

There was blood in my whiskey

Now there’s blood on my hands

So I went on the run to win nobody’s heart

Got into a terrible fix

He was tall, unattractive and living apart

But he carried a .30−06

Then there was blood on my shoes

There was blood on my makeup

There was blood on the ceiling

There was blood on the piano

There was blood on the bartender

There was blood on the band

There was blood in my whiskey

Now there’s blood on my hands

Now there is blood on my shoes

There is blood on my makeup

There is blood on the ceiling

There is blood on the piano

There is blood on my microphone

There is blood on my fans

There is blood in my whiskey

And there’s blood on my hands