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I park my |
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Pontiac down the hill out in back |
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Late every afternoon with a coke and a cigarette |
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And all of the neighbors there |
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They see a nice old man |
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And the girl there across the street, she sits on her front porch swing |
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She never realized what |
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I told her with my eyes |
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How back in the second war |
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I killed twenty |
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German boys |
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With my own bare hands |
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And the woman inside my house, she won't stop talking |
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She never says a thing, she just keeps talking |
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And I might just leave her still after the sun goes down |
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And I smoke this cigarette |
