Album of the Year
The first time that I met her I was throwing up in the ladies' room stall
She asked me if I needed anything, I said "I think I spilled my drink"
and that's how it started, or so I'd like to believe.
She took me to her mother's house outside of town where the stars hang down
She said she'd never seen someone so lost, I said I'd never felt so found
And then I kissed her on the cheek, and so she kissed me on the mouth, ohhohhh
Spring was popping daisies up 'round rusted trucks and busted lawn chairs
We moved into a studio in Council Bluffs to save a couple bucks
where the mice came out at night, neighbors were screamin all the time
We'd make love in the afternoon, say Chelsea Girls and Bachelor number two
I played for her some songs I wrote, she'd joke and say "I'm shooting through the roof"
I'd say "they're all for you dear. I'll write the album of the year"
And I know she loved me then, I swear to god she did
it's the way she'd bite my lower lip and push her hips against my hips
and dig her nails so deep into my skin
the first time that I met her I was convinced I'd finally found the one
she was convinced that I was under the influence of all those drunken romantics
I was reading Fante at the time, I had Bukowski on the mind
She got a job at Jacob's serving cocktails to the lo-cal drunks
I'd get so low I'd fit the bill, I perched down at the end of the bar
she said "space is not just a place for stars"
I gave an inch, you want a house with a yard
And I know she loved me once, those days are done
she used to call me everyday from a payphone on her break for lunch
just to say she can't wait to come
home ohh ohh to come home ohh ohh
last time that I saw her she was picking through which records were hers
clothes were packed in boxes with some pots and pans and books and a toaster
just then a mouse scurried across the floor...
we started laughing til it didn't hurt
