well
the nurse had spilled the manoshevitz all up and down her dress
then
she lit the map on fire neal just had to guess
should
we try and find a bootleg route or a fillin station open
the
nurse was dumpin out her purse lookin for an envelope and
jack
was out of cigarettes we crossed the yellow line
the
gas pumps looked like tombstones from here
felt
lonelier than a parking lot when the last car pulls away
and
the moonlight dressed the double breasted foothills
in the
mirror weaving outa negligee and a black brassiere
the
mercury was runnin hot and almost out of gas
just
then florence nightingale dropped her drawers and
stuck
her fat ass half way out of the window with a
wilson
pickett tune
and
shouted get a load of this and gave the finger to the moon
countin
one eyed jacks and whistling dixie in the car
neal
was doin least a hundred when we saw a fallin star
florence
wished that neal would hold her stead of chewin
his
cigar jack was noddin out and dreamin he was in a bar
with
charlie parker on the bandstand not a worry in the world
and
a glass of beer in one hand and his arm around a girl
and
neal was singin to the nurse
underneath
a harlem moon
and
somehow you could just tell we'd be in california soon
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |