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Well it’s 9th and Hennepin 
And all the donuts have 
Names that sound like prostitutes 
And the moon’s teeth marks are 
On the sky like a tarp thrown over all this 
And the broken umbrellas like 
Dead birds and the steam 
Comes out of the grill like 
The whole goddamned town is ready to blow. 
And the bricks are all scarred with jailhouse tattoos 
And everyone is behaving like dogs. 
And the horses are coming down Violin Road 
And Dutch is dead on his feet 
And the rooms all smell like diesel 
And you take on the 
Dreams of the ones who have slept here. 
And I’m lost in the window 
I hide on the stairway 
I hang in the curtain 
I sleep in your hat 
And no one brings anything 
Small into a bar around here. 
They all started out with bad directions 
And the girls behind the counter has a tattooed tear, 
One for every year he’s away she said, such 
A crumbling beauty, but there’s 
Nothing wrong with her that 
$100 won’t fix, she has that razor sadness 
That only gets worse 
With the clang and the thunder of the 
Southern Pacific going by 
As the clock ticks out like a dripping faucet 
Till you’re full of rag water and bitters and blue ruin 
And you spill out 
Over the side to anyone who’ll listen 
And I’ve seen it 
All through the yellow windows 
Of the evening train.