A trip into the pearl gray morning sunlight
Shining like a national guitar
Get these mutts away from me
I aint no fool for love songs
I can snatch a little purity
She makes the sign of a teaspoon
Looking back through the cracks in the door
I was underage in this funky bar
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
I got up to wash my face
Narrow streets of cobblestone
