Authentic American Slice of Life

Lately I can’t see the boardwalk

You are slumped at a slot in Harrah’s casino
With a dowager aunt and your grandmother’s nurse
You hit a small jack-pot and everyone scatters
Keep playing and you will make it all worse

Flashing neon lights and tasteful vinyl seating
Tubas of pedestrian cement to sit upon
Midnight here might as well be a mid-day beating
Your money is going, going, its gone!

Lately I can’t see the boardwalk
Lately I can’t see the boardwalk
Lately I can’t see the boardwalk, woe oh-oh

Undulating wildly in a prismatically lit barroom
Smiling rock bands endlessly play classic rock
No one smiles as you drift past the craps table
With odds so incredibly high

A 300 pound gorilla of a shaved-head bouncer
Is waiting to take you away
Clubbed in the back of the head with a tire iron
and you're gone

Lately I can’t see the boardwalk
Lately I can’t see the boardwalk
Lately I can’t see the boardwalk, woe oh-oh

Everything is so goddamn violent, mean and ugly
The plastic lady dealers smiling grimly at nothing
Broken-down losers, hookers and small time crooks
Keep playing and you will make it all worse

Lately I can’t see the boardwalk
Lately I can’t see the boardwalk
Lately I can’t see the boardwalk, woe oh-oh
Lately I can’t see the boardwalk
Lately I can’t see the boardwalk
Lately I can’t see the boardwalk, woe oh-oh