The last time I saw Richard was Detroit in ‘68,And he told me all romantics meet the same
The last time I saw Richard was Detroit in ‘68,And he told me all romantics meet the same fate somedayCynical and drunk and boring someone in some dark cafeYou laugh, he said you think you’re immune, go look at your eyesThey’re full of moonYou like roses and kisses and pretty men to tell youAll those pretty lies, pretty liesHe put a quarter in the Wurlitzer, and he pushedThree buttons and the thing began to whirrAnd a bar maid came by in fishnet stockings and a bow tieAnd she said “Drink up now it’s gettin’ on time to close.”“Richard, you haven’t really changed,” I saidIt’s just that now you’re romanticizing some pain that’s in your headYou got tombs in your eyes, but the songsYou punched are dreamingListen, they sing of love so sweet, love so sweetWhen you gonna get yourself back on your feet?Richard got married to a figure skaterAnd he bought her a dishwasher and a Coffee percolatorAnd he drinks at home now most nights with the TV onAnd all the house lights left up brightI’m gonna blow this damn candle outI don’t want Nobody comin’ over to my tableI got nothing to talk to anybody aboutAll good dreamers pass this way some dayHidin’ behind bottles in dark cafes Only a dark cocoon before I get my gorgeous wingsAnd fly awayOnly a phase, these dark cafe days -- source link