Something stinks down on Powell Street,
but it ain't the euro-trash cologne.
Birds in the weather fold their wings together.
Don't they always find their way home?
You're sleeping in the rain with your things together,
have you got no place to go?
I can smell the dirt woven into your toes.
I think some rain might be good for your soul.
You can have my coffee and my cigarettes,
but I think I drank the rest of the rye.
Take a look around,
take a look around this empty room,
but you won't see nothin' but my
sweet lost time.
Would you like to spend one night in my room?
Would you like to spend one day in my shoes?
Would you like to come home to my wife?
Would you like to spend one day in my life?
Was it all the decisions you made
that put you in your place?
Was it all the conspiring lines
written all over your face?
You can have my coffee and my cigarettes,
but I think I drank the rest of the rye.
Take a look around,
take a look around this empty room,
but you won't see nothin' but my
sweet lost time.
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