(Tom Waits and Chuck E. Weiss)
|
well the damn cracked hard just like a bull whip
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cause it wasn't takin' no lip from the night before
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as it shook out the street, the stew bums showed up
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just like bounced checks, rubbin' their necks
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and the sky turned the color of Pepto-Bismol
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and the parking lots growled
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and my old sports coat full of promissory notes
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and a receipt from a late night motel
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and the hawk had his whole family out
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there in the wind, and he's got a message
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for you to beware cause he be kickin' your
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ass in, in a cold blooded fashion
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dishin' out more than a good man can bear
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I got shoes untied, shirt tail's out, ain't got a
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ghost of a chance with this old romance
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just an apartment for rent down the block
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Ivar Theater with live burlesque
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and the manager's scowlin', feet on his desk
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boom boom against the curtain
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you're still hurtin'
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and then push came to shove, shove came to biff
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girls like that just lay you out stiff
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maybe I'll go to Cleveland or
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get me a tattoo or somethin', my brother
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in law's there
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skid mark tattoo on the asphalt blue
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was that a Malibu
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Liz Taylor and Montgomery Clift
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cumming on to the broads with the
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same ol' riff. Hey baby come up to
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my place, we'll listen to some
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smooth music on the stereo, no thank you
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got any Stan Getz records
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no I got Smothers Brothers
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so I combed back my Detroit
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jack up my pegs, wiped my Stacy Adams
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jacknifed my legs, yea I got designs
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on a moving violation
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hey baby, you put me on hold and I'm
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out in the wind and it's getting
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mighty cold...
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colder than a gut shot bitch wolf dog
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with 9 sucking pups pullin' a 4 trap
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up a hill in the dead of winter
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in the middle of a snowstorm
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with a mouth full of porcupine quills
|
|
(scat)
|
|
yea well I don't need you baby
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It's a well known fact
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I'm 4 sheets to the wind
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I'm glad you're gone
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I'm glad you're gone
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I'm finally alone
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glad you're gone, but I
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wish you'd come home
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and I struggled out of bed
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cause the dawn was crackin' hard like a bullwhip
|
cause it wasn't takin' no lip from the night before
|
as it shook out the streets the stew bums
|
showed up just like bounced checks
|
rubbin' their necks, and the sky turned the
|
color of Pepto-Bismol
|
and my old sports coat full of promissory notes
|
and the hawk had his whole family out there
|
in the wind, he got a message for you to beware
|
kickin' your ass in, in a cold blooded fashion
|
he be dishin' out more than a good man can bear
|
well hey baby let's take it to Bakersfield
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get a little apartment somewhere
|
|
-----------------
|
Spare Parts I (A Nocturnal Emission)
|
| Tom Waits |
