Small Change (got Rained On With His Own .38) Lyrics - Small Change - Tom Waits

Small Change got rained on with his own .38 

And nobody flinched down by the arcade 

And the marquees weren't weeping 

They went stark-raving mad 

And the cabbies were the only ones 

That really had it made 

And his cold trousers were twisted and the sirens high and shrill 

And crumpled in his fist was a five-dollar bill 

And the naked mannequins with their cheshire grins 

And the raconteurs and roustabouts said "Buddy, come on in" 

'Cause, 'cause the dreams ain't broken down here now 

They're walking with a limp 

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Now that Small Change got rained on with his own .38 

And nobody flinched down by the arcade 

And the burglar alarms been disconnected 

And the newsmen start to rattle 

And the cops are telling jokes 

About some whorehouse in Seattle 

And the fire hydrants plead the 5th Amendment 

And the furniture is bargains galore 

But the blood is by the jukebox on an old linoleum floor 

And what a hot rain on 42nd Street 

And now the umbrellas ain't got a chance 

And the newsboy's a lunatic with stains on his pants 

'Cause, 'cause Small Change got rained on with his own .38 

And no one's gone over to close his eyes 

And there's a racing form in his pocket circled 'Blue Boots' in the third 

And the cashier at the clothing store didn't say a word 

As the siren tears the night in half and someone lost his wallet 

Well, a surveillance of assailants if that's what you wanna to call it 

And the whores hike up their skirts and fish for drug-store prophylactics 

Photos 

With their mouths cut just like razor blades 

And their eyes are like stilettos and her radiator's steaming 

And her teeth are in a wreck, and nah 

She won't let you kiss her but what the hell do you expect? 

And the gypsies are tragic and if you want to buy perfume 

Well, they'll bark you down like carnys 

Sell you Christmas cards in June 

But, but Small Change got rained on with his own .38 

And his headstone's a gum ball machine 

No more chewing gum or baseball cards or overcoats or dreams 

Someone's hosing down the sidewalk, and he's only in his teens 

'Cause, 'cause Small Change got rained on with his own .38 

And a fistful of dollars can't change that 

And someone copped his watch fob, and someone got his ring 

And the newsboy got his pork pie Stetson hat 

And the tuberculosis old men at the Nelson wheeze and cough 

And someone will head south until this whole thing cools off 

'Cause, 'cause Small Change got rained on with his own .38 

Yeah, Small Change got rained on with his own .38