I didn't know I drank such a lot
Till I pissed a tequila and I conned her
the full length of the parking lot.
Again I talk to open and free.
I pay a high price for my open talking
like you do for your silent mystery.
Talk to me, talk to me, Mr. Mystery.
We could talk about Martha,
we could talk about landscapes
but I sit on a secret where honor is at stake
We could talk about power,
Charlie Chaplin's movies,
the Berkman's Naughty Blues
Come on, please just come and talk to me
Just come an d talk to me
You could talk like a fool I'd listen
You could talk like a saint
Anyway, the best of my mind
all goes down on the strings and the page
My mind picks up the pictures,
it still gets my feet up to dance
Though it's covered with keloids
from the slings and arrows
She stole that from Willie the Shea,
you know neither a borrower
Romeo, me, oh me, oh me, oh, it's hard to me
Is your silence that golden
Are you comfortable in it
Is the key to your freedom,
or is it the bars on your prison?
Are you dead by your ribbons?
Are you really exclusive,
Come on, spend some on me
Shut me up and talk to me
I'm always talking, chicken squawking