Quarter To Four

Well the night was lost.

The night was sore.

Then my pockets emptied

as the beer downpoured.

What at last was on

was now quarter to four.

Another wasted night.

So this night was right

for stupid sin.

Yeah the holding out

was caving in.

The slickest sinner

always wins the prize

of a wasted night.

I wanna go, I wanna stay.

I wanna say something.

I've got nothing to say.

Another wasted night.

I close my eyes,

don't wanna see

the sun coming up

on my history.

So if the chance comes down

to steal a kiss

you nab what you can

resignation is bliss.

I never brake when I hit the skids

on a wasted night.

See we can close our eyes,

let our hands pretend

we can kill this life

with tight grips and hedged bets

that will ditch this world.

But for now let's curl

into this wasted night.

Crawling like James Dean

for his toy monkey.

Living by night, in a lonely place.

My father was Nicholas Ray.