The Difference Between This, That, And The Other Thing

I'm a Roman! Everything I own is broken! Everything I own is Stolen! I'm a Roman!

And I live amongst the decay, also known as Queens,

reminders of a better day when men were made from war and inudstry,

when men were made to bore with symmetry,

when women could be handed a list of my deeds,

when the skyline I didn't design built me with buildings stacked brick by brick.

I'm a Roman! Everything I own is broken! Everything I own is Stolen! I'm a Roman!

And I live here today and though I'll walk this same Church Street tomorrow it

won't be the same

even if we meet eyes again, even if I hold the table for the same run,

even if for two weeks I'm convinced you're the one -

see I've seen people make it but they've seen only an image of me

and I let myself get caught up in the shakin'

and those are days when I sit down to eat,

no, the real me pays for nuthin'

and empathizes with the Romans

whose coolest slips and solos,

disappear.

So this keeps me dirty, but baby I'm still dandy

and I know I can be a bit too dandy, but baby I'm still dirty.

I'm dirty because my best works come out at 3:300 A.M. with Campari and gin

and some crazy chick and they go undocumented 'cause that just wouldn't be feelin' it

(I swear)

I'm dandy because I've played your game for so long I've become it

and now I love it.

I know I'm dirty and i could use new shoes,

but the booze, the booze, the booze, the booze...

and I know I'm dandy, but I've played your game for so long I've become it

so in the sheets, on the kitchen table, in the bathroom, in the van,

from Flushing Ave. to Ferry Street, Ironbound

I'm thinking what you're thinking:

that either you've got to cut your hair shorter or I've got to grow mine longer,

and I'm not growing mine any longer

so I'll meet you at 2:00 where the breakfast special overlaps with the

margarita happy hour

and right on, right on,

'till 2:00...or 3:00...