Titillations been replaced by Interstate brickface and Coffee-Mate
And by a list of phone calls you’d like to make
Where you could sit on the edge of your bed
And you could stare into your own shoes
And in the pools of light there
Go wherever you choose
Just rig up a complication and if it derails
You can throw away the rudder and float away like vapour trails
There’s nothing funnier than pride in an utterly confident stride
So I pulled the car on over to give you a ride
Damn this sleepy weather he said
As he marched in sopping wet shoes
Through rainpools evaporating
Says in this sign I’ll conquer you
I pulled the car on over to give you a ride
But there’s nothing uglier than a man hitting his stride
(now the morning’s over light wind blows)
Past Mexicans all dressed in beige shirts
Leaving over their hoes
Now the morning’s over
It’s time to let them sprinklers hose
Past hills of chambermaid’s dark bare arms
And fields of muscles quilted to the bone
Right now I’m flying over
Yea right now I’m flying home
Where I can sit on the end of my bed