We came here as a matching set
The six of us, just us six innocents
A blind date at the fiction
May I peek through your blue eyes?
The night is white the lights are flashing
And the six us of are hot
Although it’s March, you’ll find us splashing
Where the rest of you would not

The room just keeps on spinning as the bad boys play roulette
I lost a shoe, but I keep winning
No contusions no regret
Because it’s better to be hammered than a useless rusty nail
It’s all the sixes, and we’re set, into the morning Abigail

I’m on my knees
Not praying
Is there anybody down there?
Sorry, please
It’s taken
You won’t find anybody in here…

We're flying at the fiction on a night you won't believe
Free spirits flailing in the fountain
And near nothing underneath
It's like the movie where she gets the guy
And takes the plane and leaves
The tragic facts of life for losers for a life less ordinary

They all shoot horses, don’t they?
Sure we’re doomed to drop
I don’t care how long it takes
Just need to make it to the shops
So can you help me cause I need it
Got my head stuck in this pail
The weekend’s young, and I am trying
Turn the light on Abigail

I’m on my knees
Not playing
Can’t find anybody in here
For pity’s sake, what would I have to
Take for you to listen

So please don’t shout
Stop shaking
Don’t take any pictures
I’m so sorry, Abby, really
Being blinded by the fiction

Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher

Pulp Fiction song meanings
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