Dirty rain beats a tattoo on the window of the office and mimics the ticker that's pounding out war drums in my rib cage.
And those ribs; they're beat up pretty bad since Lenny worked me like a stumblebum in the alley that runs down the side of O'Hara's saloon bar until I lay face down in the dirt and the puddles and the night and the alley and my defeat and listened to a drunk belting out Come-All-Ye's as the squad cars ripped the night to shreds.
The green and red neon light turns the rain on the window to rainbows like the bruises on my torso.
And those ribs; they're beat up pretty bad since Lenny worked me like a stumblebum in the alley that runs down the side of O'Hara's saloon bar until I lay face down in the dirt and the puddles and the night and the alley and my defeat and listened to a drunk belting out Come-All-Ye's as the squad cars ripped the night to shreds.
The green and red neon light turns the rain on the window to rainbows like the bruises on my torso.