It's just the same old scratch
You can open it with a whisper in my hear
With a sweet embrace
You can feel it falling before
Anyone can say a word

On the night streets
Taxi knights and boulevard queens
I bet you feel like a princes
With your chicken bones-lipstick crown

The modeled airplanes
The whiskey jars
The wounded fingernails
The screeched wooden counter
In the other end of the bar

Your wings will melt
In a worn summer day
A ride in the park
A luxury wheelchair

Il still be wondering
Threw the motels
And the bus stations
Following all the wrong roads
One my two feet.