your mama look like carol channing

she watch the sunset on an 8" black and white tv

she's got a sister in Toronto

you got an old man out in "call me when you're drunk b.c."

he was the king of corona

dark glasses and a reason not to go back home

she fell in love with the night time

she fell in love with his fists and his cheap cologne



your mama watch through the window

she see the trouble through the eyes looking back from the street

completely out of proportion

too old, too faint, too grey, too weak

she sits somewhere over the highway on the edge of town

looking back into the noise for the slightest sound

between the leather and the artificial lights

nothing much new down here tonight



she says, "I wanna run away and wanna see the world but I probably never will...but I don't wanna know.

some nights I can sink like a stone, look around me and completely 

understand...and some nights I don't."



your mama stood in the hallway

the cigarette smoke, slow stroke, nerves like steel

she tell you all about the old times

when everything was new more than it was real

she said, "I never had a friend that would put me down

I never knew where all the money'd go until it was gone"

between the leather and the artificial lungs

blowing smoke over the things she'd done