| When I was in the gutter you were already deeply disturbed |
| There was that night I swear I heard you say you’d poisoned your father |
| Between moans |
| So maybe he was mean, and maybe he had a penchant |
| For back handing your mother at the mere mention of love gone cold |
| Like, how was she to know? |
| But that don’t mean it’s fine |
| That don’t mean it’s fine |
| That don’t mean it’s fine |
| To do whatever you like |
| When I was in the gutter you were no longer sober |
| And I admired the grace with which you fell off the wagon |
| Surrounded by the dregs of horny divorcees |
| Roller blading busters in their CRV’s |
| Come on, love |
| Are you gonna give it up |
| Or what? |
| If I feel no such love |
| If I feel no such love |
| Though I am grateful for the shelter |
| While it holds me in it’s arms |
| Oh, but when I feel better |
| When I feel better |
| When I feel better |
| Can’t tell me nuthin'! |
| So watch me chase the sun and dream that it’s over |
| And I won |
| But did I love you once? |
| Not so far from Pismo |
| And to watch you twirl on the beach |
| Under pink lightning |
| Giggling, 'we're all just recycling |
| Have you dreamt my dream before?' |
| Gee, I don’t know |
| But I’m tired and can no longer perform |
| But when I was down and out |
| When I was down and out |
| When I was down and out |
| You unbuttoned your blouse |