your mama look like carol channing   she watch the sunset on an 8" black and white tv   she's got a sister in Toronto   you got an old man out in "call me when you're drunk b.c."   he was the king of corona   dark glasses and a reason not to go back home   she fell in love with the night time   she fell in love with his fists and his cheap cologne      your mama watch through the window   she see the trouble through the eyes looking back from the street   completely out of proportion   too old, too faint, too grey, too weak   she sits somewhere over the highway on the edge of town   looking back into the noise for the slightest sound   between the leather and the artificial lights   nothing much new down here tonight      she says, "I wanna run away and wanna see the world but I probably never will...but I don't wanna know.   some nights I can sink like a stone, look around me and completely    understand...and some nights I don't."      your mama stood in the hallway   the cigarette smoke, slow stroke, nerves like steel   she tell you all about the old times   when everything was new more than it was real   she said, "I never had a friend that would put me down   I never knew where all the money'd go until it was gone"   between the leather and the artificial lungs   blowing smoke over the things she'd done