Dumptruck            
             
New York City soothing my itchy itchy month 
of May 
Time has passed for Mrs. Onassis, 
decay on display 

I don't want to go down 
I don't want to go down 
I don't want to go down - like she did 

And I can't understand why something 
good's got to die before we miss it 

Mumbled talk throught pigeon park 
And Hastings is wasting away 
Religiously they seem to sin 
Buy, sell or trade for amens 

I just don't want to feel 
I just don't want to feel 
I just don't want to feel - like they feel 

Hollow body for sound, trade a coat for 
a gown 

Way up in my arms you know 
I love you just a little bit more 

Raisin' nose down to chin 
Smoke after smoke they all trickle in 
Anything, for anything, and ending up 
with nothing 

Simple pimpled young man 
Sores all over his hands 
He's sleeping, not so silently 

I'll mop the floors for you all 
I'm a fly on the wall 
Really big and listening 

Burned a hand of a friend of mine 
And Bub I know that you could fly a 
mile high 
You told me nothing's ever gonna come 
between 
Nothing's ever gonna come between 
Nothing's ever gonna come between 

My dumptruck and me

             
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