The fire escape is rusting, it's not safe to be on but I still hear you kids creeping home in the morning I know who you are, but I never will say 'cuz once upon a time someone did that for me and I like to think you'll come to do it, too. I was never a contender, but I did okay We played ball in the sun and got drunk in the rain We rambled like you and we kissed just the same but now your mother says, "Honey, it's not safe in the street." Roisin's was the place where the Irish would go to play cards in the back where the cops wouldn't know They let me win a hand when I was barely ten Momma said, "Don't let me see you near those men again." So I never let her see me goin' back. I was never a contender, but I did okay We played ball in the sun and got drunk in the rain We rambled like you and we loved just the same but now your mother says, "Honey, it's not safe in the street." I was never a contender, but I did okay We played ball in the sun and got drunk in the rain We laughed like you and we kissed just the same but now your mother says, "Honey, it's not safe in the street." But if you knew her when I knew her back then She was the tear-away of the east end. And they never did find who put the soap in the fountain. I was never a contender, but I did okay We played ball in the sun and got drunk in the rain We rambled like you and we kissed just the same but now your mother says, "Honey, it's not safe in the street." I was never a contender, but I did okay We played ball in the sun and got drunk in the rain We laughed like you and we loved just the same but now your mother says, "Honey, it's not safe in the street."

Just like water it over-flowed, and drained, and soaked, and now it's over And I'm not the only one here who ain't sober But I might be alone wishing it would pass. It's a long way home from the campsite by the river but I'm holding on tell my momma that I miss her In the dead of dawn I can hear the ghosts a-beckon with their truth so cold I'm not dressed right to be listening So I lock my ears and throw away their key. I've been eaten by the whales that follow riptides and the seasons I'm not scared of drowning 'cuz I learned some swimming But how to paddle up and out the eastern dam that's the question. It's a long way home from the campsite by the river but I'm holding on tell my momma that I miss her In the dead of dawn I can hear the ghosts a-beckon with their truth so cold I'm not dressed right to be listening So I lock my ears and throw away their key. And if you see me on the road, well, I'll just be wandering in my sleep Towards a flashing light that only blinks when I can see I've got an early start so it's off to bed for me If I thought about the miles. I'd never make it. It's a long way home from the campsite by the river but I'm holding on tell my momma that I miss her In the dead of dawn I can hear the ghosts a-beckon with their truth so cold I'm not dressed right to be listening So I lock my ears and throw away their key.

She was cute, I'll give her that one in a heartbeat little Rita Bettencourt flown in from halfway 'round the world I saw the danger, but like Cavanagh this creature made of clay liked the way I talked, but couldn't stand my accent. I'll speak slowly into your microphone Mr. Kind of Blue, hey, can you hear me? What's the score? Who takes the lead? I can't remember all the steps. Hit the lights and cue the band then say, "Goodnight" and "Let's do this again." I went over, but there's nothing there to make or borrow So I just wandered 'til I felt myself alone and out of touch I traced the sidewalks back, different as the twins to Mother I filled a glass and told them all of my adventures. I'll speak slowly into your microphone Mr. Kind of Blue, hey, can you hear me? What's the score? Who takes the lead? I can't remember all the steps. Hit the lights and cue the band then say, "Goodnight" and "Let's do this again." Flash across my arm Flash across the sky, a lonely sparrow Flashing looks and blades and pans across an empty diner. All closed up for the night and yet, a couple stools still spinning. Spinning records meant for laying back and saying nothing. I'll speak slowly into your microphone Mr. Kind of Blue, hey, can you hear me? What's the score? Who takes the lead? I can't remember all the steps. Hit the lights and cue the band then say, "Goodnight" and "Let's do this again."

Dear Mr. Singer singing his songs to the deaf in his muted voice he'll talk you back from the edge. Mr. Brannon keeps a diner on the lower east side selling beer for a nickel, the paper passes the time. And Mick takes it all in through the sounds of Beethoven. Carson was published when she was just 23 after writing a story I don't think was about me I can't say I always get it but I know that it's good Sometimes I want to do great things but I'm not sure that I could. Old Dr. Copeland treats the sick in his flock but when he speaks of disease no one around wants to talk. But Singer understands the only white man who can. Carson was published when she was just 23 after writing a story I don't think was about me I can't say I always get it but I know that it's good Sometimes I want to do great things but I'm not sure that I could. And the Greek, he's in a home now he don't recognize his old friend, no. But I will come and see you when I get a chance we'll go out for a meal and you can eat 'til you can't and when it's time to go I'll understand why you don't say goodbye to your oldest friend. I'll just stand in awe like Tennessee did Of a young, Southern girl by the name of Carson was published when she was just 23 after writing a story I don't think was about me I can't say I always get it but I know that it's good Sometimes I want to do great things but I'm not sure that I could.

Faces of wood found in photos so faded from continents far shot by men we once hated I'll give you a light if you'll tell me the time but don't mention which hour we're in. Go softly when you speak of her even lightly of times when we drank like fools until the morning. She's gone. I know this for certain. She rode off down 6th on a horse made of velvet I think. Midnights awake letting in what's forgotten when summer dress scenes burst into the apartment I'll tell you a story if you pour the whiskey But won't mention the characters' names. Go softly when you speak of her even lightly of times when we drank like fools until the morning. She's gone. I know this for certain. She rode off down 6th on a horse made of velvet I think. I'm not an expert Not much of a writer But I've looked at cages with outsider's vision and thought I saw Jesus' police composite image but maybe I was wrong. Maybe I just heard it in a song. To go softly when I speak of her even lightly of times when we drank like fools until the morning. She's gone. I know this for certain. She rode off down 6th on a horse made of velvet. Go softly when you speak of her even lightly of times when we drank like fools until the morning. She's gone. I know this for certain. She rode off down 6th on a horse made of velvet She rode out of prison on a horse made of velvet She rode into space on a horse made of velvet I think.

Please don't stop me if you've heard this one before I beat the tar out of myself last night and I'm still pretty sore I've got bruises and some cuts I kept and cuts left on the floor and all the blood stains on the matress are just my responses to the roar. It's not a problem with my heart it's not a lack of inspiration it's a lack of any fucking thing at all. Baby, I'm still breathing but these veins ain't pumping much and I'm afraid the season's over and I lost. I thought my cash might be just as good as any 'til the wishing well took all my coin and hit the road without me Now the penny candy sours, and peddles charms with stolen luck and I watch her stepping out with boys who don't deserve her love. It's not a problem with my heart it's not a lack of inspiration it's a lack of any fucking thing at all. Baby, I'm still breathing but these veins ain't pumping much and I'm afraid the season's over and I lost. What would they say, the two bands that I played in? I was too down to business trying to haul my freight back onto the tracks. I've heard tell the good die young and I'm feeling old it's growing dark, and I'm getting cold. It's not a problem with my heart it's not a lack of inspiration it's a lack of any fucking thing at all. Baby, I'm still breathing but these veins ain't pumping much and I'm afraid the season's over and I lost.

She said, "Hey boy, you need to get your hopes up I know you say you're done with that stuff and you're wrong, but I get it. It's a big, bad wolf of a world but you've been building with brick all along and I wish you'd admit it." From the very first note of the very first chord by the dying campfire in my parents backyard it was no song about girls, or cars, or parties, or lust it was a tune about dying, about the nature of trust. And I knew it, but I was young and afraid to say. She said, "Hey boy, you need to get your hopes up I know you say you're done with that stuff and you're wrong, but I get it. It's a big, bad wolf of a world but you've been building with brick all along and I wish you'd admit it." I know the ripped magazine photos that you hung in your locker will be hung somewhere in every house that you live in forever 'til they're torn up and creased, faded beyond recognition to be the fuel that you need to feed that '55s engine when I'm not there to say... "Hey boy, you need to get your hopes up I know you say you're done with that stuff and you're wrong, but I get it. It's a big, bad wolf of a world but you've been building with brick all along and I wish you'd admit it." When it's time to say, "This wallpaper goes, or I do." I hope you think back to the day when you finally believed what I told you. When I told you... I told you so. She said, "Hey boy, you need to get your hopes up I know you say you're done with that stuff and you're wrong, but I get it. It's a big, bad wolf of a world but you've been building with brick all along and I wish you'd admit it."