Glistening hair, black liquorice Chocolate button eyes Peer over the headlines of his newspaper disguise Carriage gently rocking as the station waves goodbye Mirroring the to-ing and the fro-ing of his mind
Fizzed up with adrenaline Beneath a cool still gaze Riding on the blood that pumps Through New York City′s veins A pistol in his pocket A kick-drum in his chest There's a dead man on the ′G' train He just doesn't know it yet
Remembering last Sunday After church, still in his best Honeyed tones over the phone Would place this dark request He struggled with the small-time stuff This would earn a place And thirty-thousand crisp green notes In a leather suitcase
A gallery of faces He scans them as they sway With the steely focus of a hunter Sniffing out his prey He checks his pocket-watch Once, twice Forehead pearled with sweat There′s a dead man on the ′G' train And there′s no time for regret
He remembers talking with The damsel in distress Who said she'd mention Roosevelt And wear a bright green dress Said she′d pay him handsomely To rid her of this brute And pull a compact from her purse His signal to shoot
Pull into Church Avenue The train regurgitates A belly full of outcasts Just three of us remain He shoots that deadbeat man of mine Clean between the eyes Doesn't see me pull a pistol Out from under my left thigh
Slumps beside my husband like A sick wounded racehorse A bloody, swift, alternative To a messy divorce I′d never prove adultery Within a court of law So I'll feign fear and self defence And I'll feel no remorse
Glistening hair, black liquorice Chocolate button eyes Stare up at me, lifeless As I force myself to cry I′ll leap onto the platform Run to the guard and scream "There′s a Dead man on the G train!" And I'll walk away freeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
