It's not very far from Sulphur to Sugarcane. Everywhere I travel the pretty girls call my name. I give them a squeeze and they shoot me a wink. I buy their hard-headed husbands a long cool drink.
While Nat King Cole sings "Welcome To My World". You request some song you hate you sentimental fool. And it's the force of habit. If it moves then you fuck it.
Well, there's an old man's fantasy. Put in a young girl's mouth. Like cheap pink lipstick. Smeared on her wedding dress. . Will you look what you've done to her.
We used to go out walkin' hand in hand. You told me all the big things you had planned. It wasn't long till all your dreams came true. Success put me in second place with you.
On a hot city day, when your white shirt turns to gray. That's when she'll arrive. When you look how you feel, someone steps upon your heel. That's when she will come.
This never was one of the great romances. But I thought you'd always have those young girl's eyes. But now they look in tired and bitter glances. At the ghost of a man who walks 'round in my disguise.
There's a hand on a wire that leads to my mouth. I can hear you knockin' but I'm not comin' out. Don't want to be a puppet or a ventriloquist. 'Cause there's no ventilation on a critical list.
Do you love him. Or is it still too soon to know?. When I think back a couple of days. Before I found you in his spell. Was there a warning?. What can I say.
How many wrinkles in a pickle. How many hairs in a head. How many waves in the ocean. How many crumbs in bed. But last but not least, but baby most of all.
Still. These few lines I'll devote. To a marvelous girl covered up with my coat. Pull it up to your chin. I'll hold you until the day will begin. . Still.
You should wear your red galoshes. Walking o'er the city pride. Streets are paved with heaven's pennies. Gutters full of suicides. . Teddy steadily fell from grace.
The tempest blows up from a squall. Past the Cape of Bad Conscience. Into the Gulf of the Cauldron. Roars over the coastline to batter and flatten. Exposing the roots like the dyed hair of slattern.
It's started to come to me. Your new career would probably end like this. All that professional lipstick pressed into an amateur kiss. Farewell to the studied lines and carefully broken hearts.
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I knew of two sisters whose name it was Christmas. And one was named Dawn of course, the other one was named Eve. I wonder if they grew up hating the season.
I want a girl to make a mess. To do no wrong she must confess. And then perhaps hitch up her dress. 'Cos when the flashbulbs explode. She's such a sensitive soul.
Speak darkly, my angel. Or do I have to plead?. The sweetness has gone out of it. And all that's left is bitter barren greed. . A needy lover with her almost vanished liar.
Oh, it was such a sparkling day. That I should be singing its praises. Just to catch my senses as they slip away. But my sentences and phrases. Are about as worthless as wonder can be.
Hang my head and shut my eyes. What kind of justice is this?. Fool I was, I thought that you fought fire with fire. Got to be more than just a soul for hire.