With a bar tab bigger than Jesus And a reason for every bullet hole in the Plot laid out for her All the strung-out kids on Dead Street Gave her directions
they didn't teach me to dress formal, and my mum was a taxi driver, and my daddy was a street fighter, I wake up findin mommy dead, doin nothin but layin
be poor Do what you're told Yeah, are you from Europe? Well so am I, I came here in 1955 Half American, half asleep Same day a rain will came And wash the streets
stop for what, hey? HILDY: The fish have flown away; They're in the Bronx instead, They might as well be dead! Come up to my place. CHIP: No, Chambers Street
didn't teach me to dress formal, and my mum was a taxi driver, and my daddy was a street fighter, I wake up findin mommy dead, doin nothin but layin
