Phoenix

From the corner of third and Washington
You can't see where your brother went
Out somewhere pass the beat cops
And beautiful women who work for the government
They walk by in air conditioned tunnels
That arc high above the street
While I sweat in my hot coffee
And daydream about how we might meet
Your mother asked for a picture
She says today's your birthday
In some strung-out western stutter
Making all the world her ashtray
She adjust her aviators
With an absent shaken hand
Tilts the camera 45 degrees
And calls out modeling commands
When we used to go to parties
You'd spend an hour before the mirror
And I'd drink your gin
And ask about your high school souvenirs
Tacked on the wall above the bed
In old ink-jet collage
But you were never much for talking
So I knelt to your mirage
We'd walk the three block westbound
In the moonlit Philly fall
And the party would be grand
All our friends would grin with pride
All our friends would be so drunk
And have such pleasant things to say
Then at last we'd see each other
In the way we have dreamed to be seen
(Oooooooo, Oooooooo) x 4
Those nights your house kept secrets
We'd stumble up the stairs
My hands tore through your records
While your hands unpinned your hair
The both of us still green enough
To remove the others clothes
A quiet signal of devotion
That I am happy to have known
(Oooooooo, Oooooooo) x 4