there's a blur drizzle down the as a neon stick stirrin up the sultry night air and a yellow biscuit of a buttery cue moon rollin' across an obsidian sky as the busses go and wheezin', on the corner I'm freezin'; on a restless at a midnight road I'm town from EASY STREET with the tight knots of moviegoers and out of on the and the buildings towering above lit dominoes or black dice all the used car dressed up in Checkerboard slacks and Grant wrap-around, in front of EARL SCHLEIB $39.95 like barkers at a gallery they out kind of a Texas Guinan routine "Hello sucker, we like your just as well as anybody here" or give you the P.T. Barnum bit "There's a sucker born every you just to be comin' along at the right time" over here now you know... all the harlequin sailors are on the in a of "LIKE NEW," "NEW PAINT," decent air and AM-FM dreams and the yellow gypsy cabs stacked up in the taxi zones waitin' machines to be ticking off a joy ride to a magical waitin' in like "truckers welcome" diners dirt lots full of Peterbilts, Kenworths, and the like, and they're hiballin' bankrupt brakes, over driven paid, over fed, a day late and a dollar short but Christ I got my lips a bottle and my foot on the and I'm standin' on the corner on the corner like a "just in town" jasper, on a street with a gasper lookin ' for some kind of Cheshire grin stroking a goateed chin, and using meters as walking sticks on the stroll with my propped open at half mast but you know... over at Pool Hall and Snooker it was a nickle after two, yea it was a nickle two and in the steel blue dream smoke, it was the radio that groaned out the hit and the chalk squeaked, the floorboards and an Olympia sign winked through a yellow shade, old Jack Chance leanin' up against a Wurlitzer and out a 5 ball combination shot you say? ...hard to believe?, perhaps out of the realm of possibility? he be stretchin' out long fingers out across a cool green felt with a provocative gate and a full table that's no sweat and I leaned up against my and wandered over to the Wurlitzer and I punched A-2 I was for something like Wine, Wine, Wine by the Caps starring Chuck E. Weiss or High Blood by George (cryin' in the streets) Perkins - no "that's life," that's all the people say ridin' high in April, seriously shot in May, but I know I'm gonna change that when I'm standing underneath a buttery that's all melted off to one side It was just that time that the sun came crawlin' out of a manhole at the foot of 23rd and a dracula in a black disguise was making its way to its pre-paid at the St. Moritz Hotel (scat) and the El train tumbling across the trestles and it sounded like the of Gene Krupa with an overhead cam and and the whispering brushes of wet on a wet pavement and a traffic jam session on Belmont and the of the pending evening, I leaned up my bannister and I've been for some kind of an with romantic dividends kind of a negociation is as I attempt to all my weekly payments, into one-low-monthly the nose with romantic residuals and leg but the chances are more than likely I'll be held over for another smashed