I heard a wharf rat's high-pitch song
Underneath the dimmest yellow lights last night
I was dockside waiting for a guy
Who knows what it's like to be alone in this town
The river smelled like a fishmonger's hands
As it lapped up my tasteless reflection
Leather weather blew in from the east
On a high wind train with it's tar top down
And every vessel in my broken sea
Cries out for my blood tonight
Seen the headlights of Vincent's car
He pulled his ride up slowly
Just like God would
Nothing different from any Friday night
We sat and we smoked on his lukewarm hood
Small talk before the exchange
Is Vincent's way of easing his own soul
Into a spot in the dark parking lot
Of a conscience that weighs
More than all the dope in this world
Chorus:
Handful of chestnuts
Mouthful of April rain
Stomachful of two plain slices
The notes of life are hard to explain
An eyeful of lunchtime girls
Closet full of red wine stains
Earful of subway trumpet
The notes of life are all that remain
Took out my money in fair due time
To hand to my man for a dance with his lady
Just as the moon unholstered itself
From a cop colored coat of a downtown cloud
And Vince, he paused with his back to my face
And that's when I heard the stones grind behind me
You don't need eyes on the back of your head
To tell you when you're done out loud
And every vessel in my broken sea
Walks out on my skin tonight
From a rooftop up in the Bronx
Tonight I sweep down across my breathing city
Feel so light
The taste of the night
Is sweet gushing across my tongue
Through midnight smoke and skyscraper glow
I descend down for to deliver
The final notes of a wharf rat's song
To my body floating in the river
The notes of life are all that remain