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Jay
Alien Abductee
Vatican City
2279 Posts |
 Posted - 07/28/2003 : 02:47:24 AM
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Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis
(Tom Waits)
hey charlie i'm pregnant
and living on the 9th street
right above a dirty bookstore
off euclid avenue
and i stopped takin dope
and i quit drinkin whiskey
and my old man plays the trombone
and works out at the track
and he says that he loves me
even though its not his baby
and he says that he'll raise him up
like he would his own son
and he gave me a ring
that was worn by his mother
and he takes me out dancin
every saturday night.
and hey charlie i think about you
everytime i pass a fillin station
om account of all the grease
you used to wear in your hair
and i still have that record
of little anthony & the imperials
but someone stole my record player
now how do you like that?
hey charlie i almost went crazy
after mario got busted
so i went back to omaha to
live with my folks
but everyone i used to know
was either dead or in prison
so i came back to minneapolis
this time i think i'm gonna stay.
hey charlie i think i'm happy
for the first time since my accident
and i wish i had all the money
that we used to spend on dope
i'd buy me a used car lot
and i wouldn't sell any of em
i'd just drive a different car
every day, dependin on how
i feel
hey charlie for chrissakes
do you want to know the
truth of it?
i don't have a husband
he don't play the trombone
and i need to borrow money
to pay this lawyer
and charlie, hey
i'll be eligible for parole
come valentines day
I love that song! It's got some really great piano work in it, and it's one of those "mood" songs.
Have I ever told the story about my Aunt Diane and the jar of pickles? Yes, I have. Shit. Okay.
Don't ever...EVER...listen to what Fred Phelps has to say. That man is satan on Earth. The US shouldn't be looking for Sadam...they should be putting Fred Phelps in prison.
Sixty miles of hard road ahead
Nothin but dust and wire
Gunned Old Henry down state 44
turned him off at the apple tree
coasted off in the shade of the branches
Sixteen years since I last saw her
Cats pinned up against the plastic cage wall
Shotgun loaded behind the water heater
Mom's out back with a shovel in her hand
Dad an' Wild Turkey sittin' on the steps
We'd hold hands and run through the creek
The same one where Jimmy drowned
Her smile was like the moon on a cold night
And her hands tough and caloused
From throwing hay up the barn
Sometimes we'd hear her dad call her
His bourbon voice echoed through the hills
Other times it was the rattle of a shotgun
Or the dogs come runnin' up behind
She'd grab my arm and we'd run to the field
I went away that winter and didn't see her
I grew a little older and little wiser
I found out that she was crying every night
Cause mom went to hell and dad had beat her
And I had left her for a another girl
Got a call from a hotel Manager
Said his name was Roger McIntyre
He told me he found my number on a note
Stapled to the sheets in room 109
He could only read what wasn't red
I guess she figured I wouldn't come back
Or maybe that I'd never remember
Sitting on the banks of Jimmy's creek
running to the field to see the sun
Falling asleep under the morning gray
I found dad's razor in the broken window
Still sharp from hours on the stone
I flicked it open and scratched my nail
widdled her initials on the sill
stuck in my belt and took off for the creek
I was sitting on a fallen tree
I could see my reflection in the water
cause the moon was soft and bright
I was dying to come back here
and see her again
The razor shined in the moons soft glow
I flicked it open and swallowed hard
Breathed deep and felt it burn my neck
I could hear a bourbon-torn voice calling
just before the splash
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"Hey man...you smell..."
"Oh yeah?"
"yeah...like dinner..." |
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happy stuff...
