your mama look like carol channing she watch the sunset on an 8" black and white tv she's got a sister in Toronto you got an old man out in "call me when you're drunk b.c." he was the king of corona dark gla**es and a reason not to go back home she fell in love with the night time she fell in love with his fists and his cheap cologne your mama watch through the window she see the trouble through the eyes looking back from the street completely out of proportion too old, too faint, too grey, too weak she sits somewhere over the highway on the edge of town looking back into the noise for the slightest sound between the leather and the artificial lights nothing much new down here tonight she says, "I wanna run away and wanna see the world but I probably never will...but I don't wanna know. some nights I can sink like a stone, look around me and completely understand...and some nights I don't." your mama stood in the hallway the cigarette smoke, slow stroke, nerves like steel she tell you all about the old times when everything was new more than it was real she said, "I never had a friend that would put me down I never knew where all the money'd go until it was gone" between the leather and the artificial lungs blowing smoke over the things she'd done