Working Title

One o’clock at Sunset and at Echo I’m
sitting with my girlfriend at the feeding line.
I feel I’m getting older, looking for the door.
And seeing this, i’m timing out my day again.
(look around)
They’re packing in all the best hangover fashions here.
(where’ve you been?)
I check myself to make sure that I don’t fit in.
(are you going?)
Don’t want to know how the city’s jerking off on me.
(are you gone?)
Don’t want to think, “hey, this is where I want to be.”

It’s lovely
that you got your hair chopped off
and they didn’t finish the job.
Are you lonely,
or acting sad, it’s the look
and you think that it suits you best?
I’m useless
when at work, it’s a joke,
but I’ll keep on feeding you slobs,
‘cause a job’s a job.

I’m a full-fledged member of the market place.
I’m the goose-fleshed legend that you heard about.
(are you going?)
I’ll meet you in my new, high-powered bourbon tank,
(are you gone?)
where we will swim as naked old men, at your wake.

It’s lovely,
that you got all fucked up
and you don’t know where you have been.
Are you lonely,
or just fed up with the shape
that you keep finding yourself in?
I’m useless,
when at work, it’s a joke
but I’ll keep on feeding you slobs
‘cause a job’s a job.