Well monday morning had me down

by tuesday evening i’d come around

Friday found me singing on the stage

well i don’t mind working late

it keeps the beans on my plate

if it weren’t for singing, I might be in the cage

now i got me a basement with a view

and i can sleep till 1/2 past two

some folks call me lazy some call me brave

but it don’t matter anyway

we do our own things day to day

i just ain’t no one else’s slave

and all the while the world turns

with petty talk and lame concerns

and arguments over what you should believe

and all the while the world burns

it’s clear as day, but nobody learns

cause no one wants a cure for this disease

now i see women everywhere

on the street and on the stair

sometimes it’s so hard to keep my cool

platinum blondes who’ve gone brunette

and some who ain’t decided yet

Lord sometimes they make me feel just like a fool!

i know girls with strange tattoos

and i know girls who like their booze

and i know girls who don’t do nothing but cry

i know girls with plastic faces

their picture’s on their pillowcases

i know girls who live to love and lie

and everytime i turn around

another grave is in the ground

they’re selling all kinds of crap on my TV

and everytime I turn around

someone says they think the’ve found

the answer to some old forgotten mystery

now outside the apartment gates

there’s vanity on license plates

and a dozen differnt kinds of coffee shops

i go walking down that avenue

same as them, same as you

difference is my feet don’t ever stop!

now i know married girls who cheat

they say their lives are incomplete

and i know girls who say they’ve been betrayed

i know some girls who speak of fate

and they don’t ever hesitate

they say: “life is made of moments, being made”

but come midnight it’s all the same

it melts into a picture frame

and suddenly everythigns so clear

the night is cool, the moon is tame

and there’s nothing but some crazy dame

it’s always these damn women that keep me here

wintertimes, my favorite time

i get to see old friends of mine

everybody’s running from the cold

but i know someday it’ll all be gone

when youth decides to pass me on

and time decides to turn my body old

but i’ll always love that cheap perfume

messin’ with my afternoons

and all those pretty women passing by

we all sing the same old tune

like the locals in the loud saloon

just doing what were doing till we die