Twenty-seven years old 
She could not keep control
Of her broken-hearted soul
And the reckless way she go

Shaking that gutter tambourine
And a 57 microphone 
Black beehive, tattooed arms 
Singing that soul song can't go on 

Red flower in her hair
Tragic twenty-seven she rolls like 
Janis and Jimi running down drinks 
Black beehive I miss you so 
Sassy as any supreme, her eyes as black as coal
Walked away and the sun went down 
Singin' that soul song till no one's around 

Back to black was
Her kind of rhythm and blues 
Fade out to black was
Her kind of rhythm and blues

Lay your lamp down low
Suicide doors on that Lincoln
Take in that final drag, well 
You're so intoxicating 
And the evening's afterglow
Turns into a bad hangover 
Black beehive
Ten thousand demons
You cheated yourself but you had your reasons 

Back to black was
Her kind of rhythm and blues 
Fade out to black was
Her kind of rhythm and blues
Back to black
She had nothing but the whole world to lose 
Fade out to black was
Her kind of rhythm and blues