We have a random on the westside He says I can't give you anything at all Just a room with a bad view of you He sent a letter to a downstat Saying sorry that I missed you But I can't think of anything to do He's addicted to the time track
He's in a hotel where they all go Saying "Boy, I've lost my memory" Just how quickly things can end With people that I don't know So the image breaks down again
I suppose it's very shady At least until the lights go out Advertising posters on the wall And the young boys singing softly Or is it always at the wrong time I could crawl around the floor And move a hand in front of my eyes