James Woods
The nighthawks sit along the aisle
Low brick, wall and glass
Virgin chickies, they flutter by
Tank tops, gloss and sass
They drive the boys to distraction
They play coy, never fear the action
They own the world at twenty-one
And in a blink they’ll be done
They say that hawks are dinosaurs
Condensed to wing and bone
Eons of evolution
And the whores wait by the phone
Like a port in the storm
You come home to your loneliness
So you go out again
To find a friend to meet
When your survival rides
On cutting between the raindrops
You better be fast on your feet
Treat Williams by the door
With Andrzej Bartkowiak
I’m sittin’ with Bob and Joe
We worked with the mighty Sergio
We were just getting back
We lost Jimmy Hayden
Yeah, that needle took our boy
Tuesday was a hard one
A woman of no joy
Like a port in the storm
You come home to your loneliness
And you go out again
To find a friend to meet
When your survival rides
On cuttin’ between the raindrops
You better be fast on your feet
On your motherfuckin’ feet
Whitey worked the bar that night
His sidekick, Bruce, no other
He said, “I gotta slide,
Could use a ride
Have you got wheels, my brother?”
I said, “I’m goin’ cross town myself”
Whitey said, “Great,
I was gonna be late”
So I took the guy who’d become a star
And left the split-tail on the shelf
Whitey crossed the line at sixty
Head-on right off the bridge
A tractor trailer hauling gas
Never left a smidge
Bruce got home safe and sound
And I gazed into the fridge
Nothing there, I don’t care
The night is thick and black
I get a call, no time to spare
A dark wind is at my back
I hail a cab and I hunker down
In black we cross the park
I feel the beat of the city street
All the action starts to spark
Like a port in the storm
You come home to your loneliness
So you go out again
To find a friend to meet
When your survival rides
On cuttin’ between the teardrops
Yeah you better be fast on your feet
When your survival rides
On cuttin’ between raindrops
Yeah, you better be fast on your feet