So, you scratched at the door   Like a cat in the rain   And at that I had you   Dead to rights   So I looked to be sure   That your hair was the same   But something had scared you   Ghostly white      So, I lent you a coat   And it fell off your shoulders   I laughed at the way   It swallowed you whole   Girl, it’s so nice to see ya   How long has it been   Since Los Angeles has seen any snow      And your brother’s up in New York City   The city that he loved so well   And he’s plagiarizing promises   With the ghost of Dylan Thomas   On the ninth floor of the Chelsea Hotel      So a penny a thought   And a nickel a prayer   If we just save a little   It’ll just get us there   So give back the nickels   That I’ve tossed in the well   Cause summer in San Francisco   Is colder than hell      So I dressed up the truth,   In a big blue hat,   And I walked the old girl right down to the service,   And they all asked about you,   And the troubles you’ve had   And everyone seemed to believe   You deserved it      And your brother’s up in New York City….      I looked all around   And no one could find you   Just had to remind you   Of the girl on a train   She was waving and scared   She was tangled and fair   Hair danced in the window   As the train pulled away