Noirsville Tune of the Week

More Tom Waits....

 Small Change

(original lyrics)

Well small change got rained on with his own .38

And nobody flinched down by the arcade

And the marquees weren't weeping

They went stark ravin' mad

And the cabbies were the only ones

That really had it made

Cause his cold trousers were twisted

And the sirens high and shrill

And crumpled in his fist was a five dollar bill

And the naked mannequins with their

Cheshire grins

And the raconteurs

And roustabouts said buddy

Come on in

Cause the dreams ain't broken down here

Now... they're walkin' with a limp

Now that

Small change got rained on with his own .38

And nobody flinched down by the arcade

And the burglar alarm's been disconnected

And the newsmen start to rattle

And the cops are tellin' jokes about some whore house in Seattle

And the fire hydrants plead the 5th Amendment

And the furniture's bargains galore

But the blood is by the juke box

On an old linoleum floor

And with a hot rain on 42nd Street

And now the umbrellas ain't got a chance

And the newsboy's a lunatic

With stains on his pants cause...

Small change got rained on with his own .38

And no one's gone over to close his eyes

And there's a racing form in his pocket

Circled Blue Boots in the 3rd

And the cashier at the clothing store

He didn't say a word as the

Siren tears the night in half

And someone lost his wallet

Well it's surveillance of assailants

If that's whachawannacallit

But the whores still smear on Revlon

And they all look like Jane Meadows

(changed to

And the Whores hike up their skirts

to fish for dime store prophylactic's)

But their mouths cut just like

Razor blades and their eyes are like stilettos

And her radiator's steaming

And her teeth are in a wreck

Now she won't let you kiss her

But what the hell did you expect

And the gypsies are tragic and if you

Wanna to buy perfume, well

They'll bark you down like

Carneys...sell you Christmas cards in June

But...

Small change got rained on with his own .38

And his headstone's

A gumball machine

No more chewing gum or

Baseball cards or

Overcoats or dreams and

Someone is hosing down the sidewalk

And he's only in his teens

Small change got rained on with his own .38

And a fist full of dollars can't change that

And someone copped his watch fob

And someone got his ring

And the newsboy got his pork pie Stetson hat

And the tuberculosis old men

At the Nelson wheeze and cough

And someone will head South

Until this whole thing cools off cause

Small change got rained on with his own .38

Small change got rained on with his own .38