| The sidewalk coughed up weeds and cracks
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| A book, a magazine and a penny and a dime
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| Oh, and Carl looked behind him making sure the scene was empty
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| Breathed a sigh of bewilderment noting that it was
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| Not that he expected to see Anita coming up
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| With a brown bull whip or a box of daffodils
|
| Yeah, the night quiet bruised his ears and forced him into alleys
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| Where the gravel crunch was friendly under polished army heels
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| Under polished army heels
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| The steps on St. Andrews seemed the best bet
|
| Catch a little shut eye, Anita could sweat some
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| Bleed a little inside or find him in the morning
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| Hunkered down like a derelict with mustard on his chin
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| Oh, then the concrete froze his ass through the holes in his pants
|
| Winter’s not the best time to make a martyr’s point
|
| Carl caught the corner where the wind wouldn’t get him
|
| And he absentmindedly spun the ring 'round his finger with his thumb
|
| Yeah, with his thumb
|
| Tomcat screams like a baby in the backlot
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| Just as Carl’s dreams kick in tight
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| The light keeps stuttering hailstones between the boughs of a maple
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| So many voices in a one man night
|
| And he starts to see the fool behind the windshield
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| One hand on the steering wheel another in the air
|
| Trying hard to catch the jet stream to make the flying easy
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| But only grabbing hunger for another man’s life
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| For another man’s life
|
| And Anita makes the corner 'cross from Jones wrecking yard
|
| She been walking half the night and oh, her legs are tired
|
| Why, she thinks, does Carl have to take it so hard?
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| Is it me that makes him lose who he truly think he is?
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| He’s the same damn man he’s always been
|
| And I love him like I always did, like always
|
| What on earth will make him feel satisfied?
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| I love him like I always did, like I always did
|
| Like I always did
|
| She leans against the street light watching him sleep
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| Watching him turn and turn in a tide pool
|
| And she slowly walks across the steps of St. Andrews
|
| And stands there looking a minute or so longer
|
| Yeah, she tugs on his coat sleeve, «Carl, please let’s go»
|
| But she stands, oh, doesn’t say a word
|
| And they walk side by side, not touching nor explaining
|
| Just walking home to face down the circle wars
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, the circle wars |