Waits, Tom - Nighthawk Postcards (From Easy Street) Lyrics

Sa voix de vieux garçon aimant de bières et blondes platine? Son timbre raillé? Son âme même nourrie dans le tabac et l’alcool. Noctambule impénitent. Bistrot du bourdon. Humain, trop humain…

There's a blur drizzle down the plate glass
As a neon swizzle stick stirrin' up the sultry night air
And a yellow biscuit of a buttery cue ball moon
Rollin' maverick across an obsidian sky
As the busses go groanin' and wheezin'
Down on the corner I'm freezin'
On a restless boulevard at a midnight road
I'm across town from easy street
With the tight knots of moviegoers and out of towners
On the stroll
And the buildings towering high above
Lit like dominoes or black dice
All the used car salesmen dressed up in
Purina Checkerboard slacks
And Foster Grant wrap-around,
Pacing in front of Earl Schlieb
$39.95 merchandise
Like barkers at a shootin' gallery
They throw out kind of a Texas Guinan routine
"Hello sucker, we like your money
Just as well as anybody else's here"
Or they give you the P.T. Barnum bit
"There's a sucker born every minute
You just happened to be comin' along at the right time"
Come over here now
You know, all the harlequin sailors are on the stroll
In a search of "Like new, " "new paint, "
Decent factory air and am-fm dreams
And the piss yellow gypsy cabs
Stacked up in the taxi zones waitin' like
Pinball machines
To be ticking off a joy ride to a magical place
Waitin' in line like "truckers welcome" diners
With dirt lots full of
Peterbilts, Kenworths, Jimmy's and the like, and
They're highballing' with bankrupt brakes, over driven
Under paid, over fed, a day late and a dollar short
But Christ I got my lips around a bottle and
My foot on the throttle and I'm standin' on the corner
Standin' on the corner like a "just in town"
Jasper, on a street corner with a gasper loo
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Tom Waits

Fucking genius.

Waits and Bukowski is all I need.

Who else is across town from Easy Street?

KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

I'd like to say something but all I can think of is I love you. X

Don't forget to shake the handle.

Spoken Intro]
Goodness, gracious. Our bass player should be chained up somewhere. Mongrel, canine, growling. I want to take you on kind of an inebriational travelogue here. Yeah, you ain't got no spare, you ain't got no jack, you don't give a shit, you ain't never coming back. Maybe you're standing on the corner of 17th and [?] Streets. Out in front of the terminal bar there's a Thunderbird moving in a muscatel sky. You've been drinking cleaning products all night. Open for suggestions. Kind of about, well, it's kind of about going down to the corner, saying, "Well, I'm just going down to the corner to get a pack of cigarettes, I'll be back in a minute."

Yeah, you check out the street and it looks like there's kind of a
Kind of a blur drizzle down the plate glass
And as a neon swizzle stick is stirring up the sultry night air
Looks like a yellow biscuit of a buttery cue ball moon
Rolling maverick across an obsidian sky
And as the buses go groaning and wheezing
Down on the corner I'm freezing
On a restless boulevard at a midnight road
I'm across town from Easy Street
With the tight knots of moviegoers and out-of-towners on the stroll
The buildings towering high above lit like dominoes or black dice
Used car salesmen dressed up in Purina checkerboard slacks
And Foster Grant wraparounds
Pacing in front of Rainbow, Earl Scheib, $39.95 merchandise

Like barkers at a shooting gallery
They throw out a Texas Guinan routine:
'Hello sucker, we like your money, just as well as anybody else's here
Come on over here now...
Let me put the cut back in your strut and the glide back in your stride
Now climb aboard a customs Oldsmobile, let me take you for a ride'
Or they give you that P. T. Barnum bit:
'There's a sucker born every minute!'
'You just happened to be coming along at the right time, you know
Come over here now'


And you know, all the harlequin sailors are on the stroll
In search of "Like New!" "New Paint!"
And decent factory-air and AM-FM dreams
Yeah, and all the piss yellow gypsy cabs
They're stacked up in the taxi zones
And they're waiting like pinball machines
To be ticking off a joyride to a magical place
Like Truckers Welcome diners
With dirt lots full of Peterbilts and Kenworths and Jimmies and the like
They're hi-balling with bankrupt brakes
Man, they're overdriven and they're underpaid
They're overfed, and they're a day late and a dollar short
But Christ, I got my lips around a bottle
And I got my foot on the throttle and I'm standing on the corner
Standing on the corner like a just got in town Jasper
I'm on a street corner with a gasper
Looking for some kind of a Cheshire billboard grin
Stroking a goateed chin
Using parking meters as walking sticks
Yeah, on the inebriated stroll
With my eyelids propped open at half mast

But you know, over at "Chubb's Pool and Snooker"
Well, it was a nickel after two, yeah, it was a nickel after two
And in the cobalt steel blue dream smoke
Why, it was the radio that groaned out the hit parade
And the chalk squeaked and the floorboards creaked
And an Olympia sign winked through a torn yellow shade
Old Jack Chance himself leaning up against a Wurlitzer
Man, he was eyeballing out a five ball combination shot
Impossible you say? Hard to believe?
Perhaps out of the realm of possibility?
Naaaah

Cause he be stretching out long tawny fingers
Out across a cool green felt in a provocative golden gate
He got a full table railshot that's no sweat
And I leaned up against my banister
I wandered over to the Wurlitzer and I punched A2
I was looking for maybe 'Wine Wine Wine' by the Nightcaps
Starring Chuck E. Weiss
Or maybe... maybe a little something called "High Blood Pressure"
By George (Crying in the Streets) Perkins, no dice
'Cause that's life, that's what all the people say
You're riding high in April, you're seriously shot down in May
I know I'm gonna change that tune
When I'm standing underneath a buttery moon
That's all melted off to one side
Parkay

It was just about that time that the sun came crawling yellow
Out of a manhole at the foot of twenty-third Street
And a Dracula moon in a black disguise
Was making its way back to its pre-paid room at the St. Moritz Hotel

And the El train tumbled across the trestles
And it sounded like the ghost of Gene Krupa
With an overhead cam and glasspaks
And the whispering brushes of wet radials on wet pavement
Shhhhhhhhhhhhsh
With a traffic jam session on Belmont tonight
And the rhapsody of the pending evening
I leaned up against my banister
And I've been looking for some kind of an emotional investment
With romantic dividends
Yeah, kind of a physical negotiation is underway
As I attempt to consolidate all my missed weekly rendezvous
Into one low monthly payment, through the nose
With romantic residuals and legs akimbo
But the chances are that more than likely
Standing underneath a moon holding water
I'll probably be held over for another
Smashed weekend
Thank you

This is my favorite Tom Waits album. It was hard to decide, but this song made the decision for me.

He is crazy, but is a genious

Been to 17th and Wazee. Been to the Terminal Bar and it was a dump run by this blowsy Australian woman trying to get the name Billabong to stick to the place. It's gone now, replaced by an upscale seafood restaurant. I have to admit the food is delicious, but it's priced out of reach and unavailable to just about everybody who ever darkened the door of the Terminal/Billabong, and I mourn for the neighborhood.

Goodness gracious...my bass player should be chained up somewhere
I wanna take you on a kind of inebriational travelogue here
Well, ain't got no spare, you ain't got no jack, you don't give a shit you ain't never coming back
Maybe your standing on the corner of 17th and Wazee Streets, yeah
Out in front of the Terminal bar there's a Thunderbird moving in muscatel sky
You've been drinking cleaning products all night
Open for suggestions
It's a kinda about eh...well it's kinda about going down to the corner and say
'Well I'm just going down to the corner to get a pack of cigarettes I'll be back in a minute'
Yeah, check out the street and it looks likes kinda of a...
Kinda of a blur drizzle down the plateglass
And there's a neon swizzle stick stirring up the sultry night air
Looks like a yellow biscuit of a buttery cue ball moon
Rollin' maverick across an obsidian sky
As the busses go groanin' and wheezin',
Down on the corner I'm freezing
On a restless boulevard in a midnight road
I'm across town from EASY STREET
With the tight knots of moviegoers and out of towners on the stroll
The buildings towering high above
Lit like dominoes or black dice
Used car salesmen dressed up in Purina Checkerboard slacks
And Foster Grant wrap-around
Pacing in front of rainbow EARL SCHLEIB $39.95 merchandise
Like barkers at a shooting gallery
They throw out kind of a Texas Guinan routine
"Hello sucker, we like your money just as well as anybody else's here
Come on over here now
Let me put the cut back in your strut and the glid back in your slide
Now climb aboard a custom Oldmobile and let me take you for a ride"
Or they give you the P.T. Barnum bit
"There's a sucker born every minute
You just happened to be comin' along at the right time you know
Come over here"
Well you know, all the harlequin sailors are on the stroll
In a search of "LIKE NEW," "NEW PAINT,"
And decent factory air and AM-FM dreams
And all the piss yellow gypsy cabs
That stack up in the taxi zones and the're waiting like pinball machines
To be ticking off a joy ride to a magical place
Like truckers welcome diners
With dirt lots full of Peterbilts and Kenworths and Jimmy's and the like
They're hiballin' with bankrupt brakes
Man, the're over driven and the're under paid
The're over fed and the're a day late and a dollar short
Christ I got my lips around a bottle and I got my foot on the throttle
And I'm standing on the corner
Standing on the corner like a "just in town" jasper
I'm on a street corner with a gasper
Looking for some kind of Cheshire billboard grin
Stroking a goateed chin, using parking meters as walking sticks On the inebriated stroll
With my eyelids propped open at half mast

But you know over at Chubb's Pool Hall and Snooker
Well it was a nickle after two, yea it was a nickle after two
And in the cobalt steel blue dream smoke
Why it was the radio that groaned out the hit parade
And the chalk squeaked and the floorboards creaked
And an Olympia sign winked through a torn yellow shade
Old Jack Chance himself leaning up against a Wurlitzer
And he was eyeballing out a 5 ball combination shot
Impossible you say? Hard to believe?
Perhaps out of the realm of possibility? Nah
Cause he'll be stretchin' out long tawny fingers
Out across a cool green felt in a provocative golden gate
He got a full table railshot that's no sweat
And I leaned up against my bannister
And wandered over to the Wurlitzer and I punched A-2
I was lookin' for maybe 'Wine, Wine, Wine' by the Night Caps
Starring Chuck E. Weiss or maybe...
Maybe a little something called 'High Blood Pressure'
By George 'cryin' in the streets' Perkins, no dice
"Cause that's life," that's what all the people say
Your riding high in April, seriously shot down in May
But I know I'm gonna change that tune
When I'm standing underneath a buttery moon That's all melted off to one side

It was just about that time that the sun came crawlin' yellow out of a manhole
At the foot of 23rd Street and a dracula moon in a black disguise
Was making its way back to its pre-paid room at the St. Moritz Hotel
(scat)
The El train tumbled across the trestles
And it sounded like the ghost of Gene Krupa
With an overhead cam and glasspacks
And the whispering brushes of wet radials on wet pavement
With a traffic jam session on Belmont tonight
And the rhapsody of the pending evening
I leaned up against my bannister
And I've been looking for some kind of an emotional investment
With romantic dividends, yeah kind of a physical negotiation is underway
Well, as I attempt to consolidate all my missed weekly rendezvous
Into one-low-monthly payment, through the nose, yeah
With romantic residuals and legs akimbo
But the chances are that more than likely
Standing underneath a moon holding water
I'll probably be held over for another smashed weekend