She stood on the tracks
Waving her arms
Leading me to that
Here I am again
In this smoky place
With my brandy eyes
I'm
Blackout, heatwave, .44 caliber homicide
The buns drop dead and dogs
All the waiters in your grand cafe
Leave their tables when
She said she'd meet me in the bar
At the Plaza
What's the matter with the clothes I'm wearing?
"Can't you tell
I've been watching you waltz all night Diane
Nobody's found a
I didn't want to do it but I got too
The cold hands
The sad eyes
The dark Irish silence
It's so late
But
Friday night I crashed your party
Saturday I said I'm sorry
Sunday
