HOW MUCH?

Three-thousand-mile round trip, many a slip between cup and lip, and the grin of the airport cabbie, salacious, got you feeling a wee bit stabby, outrageous to charge any mark, be it late, be it dark, such a fee to reach a bed, to rest a head full of all sorts of junk, and getting punked by some dude named Drago is a no go and a low blow, it's a joke and not the funny sort, you know, but what can you do, it's a quarter past two and as cold as the grave, three days since you slept, three more since you shaved, so fuck you very much, my friend, it looks like you're getting paid.