It's a Raymond Chandler Evening,
At the end of someone's day,
And I'm standing in my pocket,
And I'm slowly turning grey.
I remember what I told you,
But I can't remember why,
And the yellow leaves are falling
In a spiral from the sky.
There's a body on the railings
That I can't identify,
And I'd like to reassure you, but
I'm not that kind of guy.
It's a Raymond Chandler Evening,
And the pavements are all wet,
And I'm lurking in the shadows
'Cause it hasn't happened yet.