he was that type of guy an honest man no doubt with much to be honest about but he laughed as he danced as if turned inside out he says: the injured have their reasons not to hear the word no they skirt the action and the has beens the sour, sour pussies and the glamour queens they say: i’ll find you baby, i’ll find you even when i cant’ face to turn the lights down low and dream
‘cause that was yesterday that was someone who lived inside yesterday as if yesterday was the only place he knew
she was ten times shy she’d known the kind of guy who could undress her slowly only with their eyes and wish the million miles between their places she said: i like your eyes they’re like headlights in the rain, what are you doing tonight, won’t you tell me your name? we could go down to the piazza of tiny feet amid the cheap perfume and the cigarette smoke and the vials and pills for no specific ills but without them you feel like you’d choke on the blackness and waste of your heart
but that was yesterday that was someone who lived inside yesterday like yesterday’s the only place he knew that was yesterday when i was someone who lived in yesterday as if yesterday’s the only thing he knew i wanted yesterday like i wanted to live inside yesterday it was the only place reminded me of you
we wanted yesterday we still want yesterday but now somehow we want tomorrow too