Somewhere an obnoxious answering machine is beeping.
My best friend is a dead man that stares at trout.
He's taken me from San Francisco, and Babylon all the way to the cheap clinics of Tijuana,
We've made love at a library he never leaves, next to a coffee table, but I was Vida then.
Now I'm turning pages, I don't want the book to end,
As I carry my day in San Francisco stealing whores from a morgue
and living on the up and up.
He died decades ago, but really... we would be perfect together.
Sitting and thinking about planks of wood and his unusual name.
(The bus driver today looked at me like he'd never before seen me in his long life; which he hadn't really, but it was a cold stare for this town.)
He's taken me from San Francisco, and Babylon all the way to the cheap clinics of Tijuana,
We've made love at a library he never leaves, next to a coffee table, but I was Vida then.
Now I'm turning pages, I don't want the book to end,
As I carry my day in San Francisco stealing whores from a morgue
and living on the up and up.
He died decades ago, but really... we would be perfect together.
Sitting and thinking about planks of wood and his unusual name.
(The bus driver today looked at me like he'd never before seen me in his long life; which he hadn't really, but it was a cold stare for this town.)