I had to use my other, other credit card
Just after noon playing pool
With my old girlfriend in the downtown bar
Or maybe it was you
I thought I saw your folks car parked
Outside the bank we used to joke about robbing
On the Boulevard
Cause we're both day old bread
And a glimpse at the good Good News
Neighbors shout-fighting
And bad back tattoos of cartoons
Cu-de-sac kids in the backseat of a Chevrolet
With champagne taste
Paying someone else's dues
In Little America
Close to the bone
Somewhat free
But mostly stoned
One foot on the platform
One foot on the train
In Little America with what little remains
But these cracked-up sidewalks and
Tar-mended lots still belong to us
The all-night diners, orange caps
Broken glass and wheel-well rust
And history won't even remember this
And neither will you, it's just
Snuffed out with your cigarette
Shaky hands baby bumps
Cut the ring off my finger
I'll cut the ring off of yours
We used to dream together
But we can't sleep much
We don't dream much anymore
And it will never be that good again
And it can't go back to the way that it was before
And there's no secret chord
David died, and we whipped and lashed and
Crucified the Lord
In Little America
Close to the bone
Somewhat free
But mostly stoned
One foot on the platform
One foot on the train
In Little America with what little remains
The sun came up
Sarah slammed the car door hard
Walked into the Ampm
While I tried to get the car to start again
Bought two packs of Winstons
She's the Bodhisattva of bad decisions
And 3 different scratch-its
Climbed back with one
In every digit
One ornate with Hollywood Stars
One had flags
With red and white bars
She handed me the other
With the drag race cars
And said I hope you're luckier than me
And she scratched one arm with one hand
Scratched the tickets
Blew off the debris with a penny on her knee
But she didn't win anything
And I didn't win anything
She sat there
And crossed a thousand arms
She cracked the tension with a laugh
She said you don't plan to be a fuck-up
But one day you wake up
And that's just who you are
In Little America
Close to the bone
Somewhat free
But mostly stoned
One foot on the platform
One foot on the train
In Little America with what little remains