i want a hotel room with class
square ice cubes in my glass
no colds for me to catch
extra channels i won't watch
and a window to the west
when they open
right around seven
i'll seize the thin line
turn it into a thicker line
well i was down before the show
i'll be down after the show
it's a showdown
well i had time before the show
i'll have time after the show
right now it's showtime
no sunrise, no more
"do not disturb" on my door
a private moment to write
and enjoy the starry night
i know you were mad at me
you were mad at me cause i was crazy for you
and you were right and me too
i couldn't imagine you were really empty
and i had to find what was hidden
and shown only by your beauty
you had to be blind to your own eyes
i had to be blind too
you had to be blind to your own eyes
i had to be blinded by you
you had your way like you always
may i take a picture of you
right now without further to do
while you raise your foot up out your little black skirt
and you slap your tongue like parler posey in flirt
this is not what i'm here for,
this is not what i'm here for
there's got to be a lot more,
this is not what i'm here for
the taste of sweet coffee when it's raining outside
the surprise of the sunrise when you just went out for a ride
afternoons in the library, peeping about
all those poems that i saved that never printed out
that lonely morning on the top of the hill by a lake
i sat and heard nothing but the sound lakes made
that evening i spent in brooklyn with some arty upper crust
smoking, drinking and swearing like martin donovan in trust
may i not help you untie and unzip
and just lie, feeling your hair on my hip
your breasts hang so neatly as you bend over
and they brush so gently against each other
we've been out
all day long
in the spring
about to write
a new song
for us to sing
the library girls were all wearing new skirts
and the sun was shining above
i told you all about my new flirts
and the vanity of love
i had to choose between girls
at the party i dreamed of
i saw your hair turning curls
and knew you'd fallen in love
it's not enough you're not happy
with the sun above
next week you're flying to new york city
to meet the one you love
to meet your brand new love
a church an houses
a dry wind rises
no seasight
no tight
a bridge over
no river
three quarters of a yellow moon
no record shops
pizzas and lollipops
coffee and a little hasch
fries and a little hasch
hasch cakes, hasch cookies
hasch-baked doll babies
you don't travel unless you're ready
to take the time and the money
why buy stuff?
when life is expensive enough
the price of a return ticket
the price of a winter jacket
i was not supposed to lose a friend or cling to a woman
what shouldn't happen happened and it happens quite often
you meet a stranger here once and you meet them some other times there
you change your style completely on the very day that you do not care
so it's gonna be farewell my lovely
i've no idea where the hell i'm a-gonna be
so it's gonna be blues and booze in the morning
and if i'm lucky maybe fine cut skirts and distant teasing
some day they'll find my body, black and blue in the west coast kelp
well i've been trying to sleep more often but even bourbon doesn't help
but when i'm dead, dead, you'll be the one to mourn for me
you'll empty the freezer and throw my ashes back into the sea
All songs by Andre Herman Dune