Small Change

Small change got rained on with his own thirty-eight,

And nobody flinched down by the arcade

And the marquees werent weeping, they went stark-raving mad,

And the cabbies were the only ones that really had it made

And his cold trousers were twisted, and the sirens high and shrill,

And crumpled in his fist was a five-dollar bill

And the naked mannequins with their cheshire grins,

And the raconteurs and roustabouts said buddy, come on in, cause

cause the dreams aint broken down here now, theyre walking with a limp

Now that small change got rained on with his own thirty-eight

And nobody flinched down by the arcade

And the burglar alarms been disconnected,

And the newsmen start to rattle

And the cops are telling jokes about some whorehouse in seattle

And the fire hydrants plead the fifth amendment

And the furniture is bargains galore

But the blood is by the jukebox on an old linoleum floor

And what a hot rain on forty-second street,

And now the umbrellas aint got a chance

And the newsboys a lunatic with stains on his pants, cause

cause small change got rained on with his own thirty-eight

And no ones gone over to close his eyes

And theres a racing form in his pocket,

Circled blue boots in the third

And the cashier at the clothing store didnt say a word

As the siren tears the night in half, and someone lost his wallet

Well, a surveillance of assailance, it thats what you want to call it

And the whores hike up their skirts and fish for drug-store prophylactics

With their mouths cut just like razor blades and their eyes are like stilettos

And her radiators steaming and her teeth are in a wreck, and nah,

She wont let you kiss her, but what the hell do you expect? 

And the gypsies are tragic and if you want to buy perfume,

Well, theyll bark you down like carneys, sell you christmas cards in june, but

But small change got rained on with his own thirty-eight

And his headstones a gumball machine,

No more chewing gum or baseball cards or overcoats or dreams

Someones hosing down the sidewalk, and hes only in his teens, cause

cause small change got rained on with his own thirty-eight

And a fistful of dollars cant change that,

And someone copped his watch fob, and someone got his ring

And the newsboy got his porkpie stetson hat

And the tuberculosis old men at the nelson wheeze and cough

And someone will head south until this whole thing cools off, cause

cause small change got rained on with his own thirty-eight, yeah,

Small change got rained on with his own thirty-eight