I can clearly see nothing as clear. I keep falling apart every year. Let's take a hammer to it. There's no glamour in it. Is there any way out of this dream.
Well, she's up against the register. An apron and a spatula. With yesterday's deliveries. And tickets for bachelors. She's a moving violation. From her conk down to her shoes.
Well, I wish I was in New Orleans. I can see it in my dreams. Arm in arm down Burgundy. A bottle and my friends and me. . Hoist up a few tall cool ones.
If I had known this was to be the last time. I would have never let you go. But there you were still talkin' of the first time. And how was I to know?.