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Old San Francisco, |
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San Francisco |
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B.C. I lived with my true love and she lived with me. "Romance is the douche of the bourgeoisie" |
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Was the very first thing she imparted to me |
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We had sarcastic hair, we used lewd pseudonyms |
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We got a lot of stares on the street back then. |
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Since her dad, a local barber, had been beaten to death |
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She had become a vocal martyr in the vegan press |
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The cops had failed, they couldn't catch a bus |
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They were looking for a male with a bad hair cut |
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Enter tumbleweed, exit love and our affaire d'amour |
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Was set on self-destruct. |
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She said "you don't make enough to provide for me." |
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I said "what about the stuff that we quote believe?" |
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She said "I left that on the sands of history I've found a new man to take care of me He dresses for success and emergency And he moves a lot of concrete on the QVC." |
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Little, asian, deadly, like a cobra in the shade |
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Sat in the midst of the smoke that he made |
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His name was |
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Mr. Games and he owned the place |
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It was a lonely bar and grill in the |
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Lower Haight |
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He had a jeweler's hands and a blurry face |
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He knew I needed a chance so he gave me a break. "If I hire you now, can you start today? I got a high-rise job down by the bay. Just a couple of rocks and some firearms There's not many locks and just one alarm My step-son Gene will pick you up and drive Try to be his friend, he's got a friendly side." |
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Doll-house lightning and the next thing |
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I knew We were back at our point of rendezvous. |
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I was in the possession of burglary tools |
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Children's fur coats and diamonds and jewels |
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Gene's talking about insignificant shit |
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Just like crooks in the movies when they do that bit. |
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He said the power of metal will never be harnessed. |
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I thought the wages of metal should be heavily garnished. |
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We were waiting for his dad to meet us there |
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Gene took off his hat and |
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I noticed his hair |
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It was neatly trimmed but a patch was bare |
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I knew it wasn't the wave, it was human error. |
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Before I knew what |
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I said, I said "killer cut." |
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I watched him silently putting out a cigarette butt. |
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Then he came at me with some fist cuisine |
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I had to duck aside and that was bad for |
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Gene Cause when he went by me he tripped and fell |
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Through the glass coffee table at the |
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Wong hotel. |
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Right there and then |
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Mr. Games walked in |
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With my ex-true love on his gamy limb. |
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So her dad's killer's dad was her new beau |
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And Games had a wife, whatta you know? |
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She got real real quiet till we chucked the kid |
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Then she went her way and |
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I went his. |
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Old San Francisco, |
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San Francisco |
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B.C. |
