outside bud's jazz records
veirs, laura
it's kind of hard to play guitar in my car
i can only stretch myself out so far
closed off from a louring
and the sad old man in his dripping tears and shame
the women pass stare at their reflections in the plate glass windows
the suits throw diet pepsi cans in the trash
i know it's time to buy another record
stan gets to let me forgot for just a minute
he's done everything he can