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Brooklyn
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Dead Loretta
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1
Hey "Mr. I'm a hardass from Brooklyn"
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in the Wawa.
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Store all you're winter food away
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All summer long while the idiots play,
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and smoke, and drink their wine.
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With a viola and a coat thats made of glass.
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You're freezing fast.
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Your arctic hands won't move.
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I start out on a weeknight.
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Got money.
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Everything is A-alright for me.
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"Hey honey! Nice shoes.
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That's funny.
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Want to know me like I know about you?"
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If, in fact, you do.
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At the gates of dawn, when the piper plays the tune.
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You'll see it all.
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Even my freckled youth.
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