You pulled up at the house at half past seven in your '69 Impala, you shook hands with my father and we stopped off at the drug store by the drive-in for some Trojans and a six-pack, but still your eyes kept wandering back to her. It's always her..
Evelyn, Evelyn. Why do we bother to stay?. Why are you running away?. Don't you feel like severing?. Everything's just come together at last. It's broken, I don't want to play.