Talking to women to pass the time
Asking what's been on their minds
They look back over years to see
How they got here, where they used to be
But the kind of women I like to know
Love themselves deeply as well
As well they've spent so many years
Of their lives now living with —
Wannabe writers, photographer's models
Used car salesmen, Ronald McDonald
Athletes and plumbers, the lovers and leavers
The doers and diggers, innocent deceivers
The cooks and the cleaners, the better than dreamers
Men into movies and record B-sides
Boys in the band and sign rearrangers
Men selling ads, close friends and strangers
They've been all over the maps of desire
And return time and again to say
The details may vary, the ring cold or fire
But all of you men are the same
And they're kind of close to being finished with them
But I know I only need to meet one
The kind of women I long to meet
Love themselves deeply as well
As well they've spent so many years
Of their lives now living with —
Poets and painters, ne'er-do-well sailors
Boys who hang out and schmooze
Live-in carpenters, expense accounts
A debt-ridden addict or two
But "junkie" is so much more romantic
Junkie is much more noir than the
Fathers and children, singers and jokers
Long-distance runners and graveyard shift brokers
Dress for your mother and look for your sister
And even those calls from the bar
(repeat)
But I know I only need to know one
All the women I dream about
Have been loving their lives by the shell
And I hope if one crosses my palm
With one more heart - I treat her well
