On a Sunday night
Under Halloween lights
Saw you on a deadman’s bench with beer in hand
Told of textbook strife and the stairwell fight
Said “You’re a handsome boy but I prefer strange men”
Even though I sometimes think I’ve died and gone to Hell
You’re the reason why I don’t give St. John’s Bridge a try to see for sure
Life’s so long like the grind to the school bell
I’ve just gotta make sure I’m not doing it wrong.
Heard your midnight prayers
From your Christmas light lair
Slanting house by the liquor store
Made our witches brew
For each passing troop
Guess that’s what all the studying’s for.
Remember late at night when we’d get home from work?
And get in your bed and just lie there?
And Vic would come in, and June would come in and Vic would come in
I swear to god I could die there.
Given the chance, I would die.
Now fluorescent and gray
In an office bored.
Waiting for McNulty’s files to render
In an apartment you
Trying to give a fuck about L’Entrenger.