Well it’s 9th and Hennepin And all the donuts have Names that sound like prostitutes And the moon’s teeth marks are On the sky like a tarp thrown over all this And the broken umbrellas like Dead birds and the steam Comes out of the grill like The whole goddamned town is ready to blow. And the bricks are all scarred with jailhouse tattoos And everyone is behaving like dogs. And the horses are coming down Violin Road And Dutch is dead on his feet And the rooms all smell like diesel And you take on the Dreams of the ones who have slept here. And I’m lost in the window I hide on the stairway I hang in the curtain I sleep in your hat And no one brings anything Small into a bar around here. They all started out with bad directions And the girls behind the counter has a tattooed tear, One for every year he’s away she said, such A crumbling beauty, but there’s Nothing wrong with her that $100 won’t fix, she has that razor sadness That only gets worse With the clang and the thunder of the Southern Pacific going by As the clock ticks out like a dripping faucet Till you’re full of rag water and bitters and blue ruin And you spill out Over the side to anyone who’ll listen And I’ve seen it All through the yellow windows Of the evening train.
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