The Whiskey Saints - Flight 1277 lyrics

Dragging hours behind this morning She's dealt a long delay San Francisco is departing But we're heading to LA She's the last person that I need to meet But we're stuck here this way It's possible she missed her cab Sleeping off three bottles of champagne Still she's finding the nearest lounge To drink until she goes insane Though McCarran is filled every day With people in pain Spending money you just hope to forget And now you're running late Our chance will be happening soon But girl you've gotta wait For twelve seven seven Unpredictable and never content She's becoming a clich