“Down by the Riverside motel,
It's ten below and falling.
By a ninety-nine cent store,
She closed her eyes and started swaying.
But it's so hard to dance that way
When it's cold and there's no music.
Oh, your old hometown's so far away,
But inside your head there's a record that's playing...”
More from Tom Waits
“Goodnight Mr. Pocket!”
“Well, it’s either kiss me or kill me, that’s how I see it.”
“Don’t plant your bad days. They grow into weeks. The weeks grow into months. Before you…”
“I like beautiful melodies telling me terrible things.”