No Joy in Mudville

Last night I dreamt that I was you I was dressed all in black with dark glasses and attitude Such a pose I could simply not hold Through days in a northern town that I had once called a home And your studies of fringe New York Streets I was reading the pavement in every word you would speak To a "brownstone up three flights of stairs" and it's on Buying drinks for the poets upstate The southern corruption tows you down the interstate And they all said that you were the king Of a gloomy disruption that surfaced when you would sing And this town simply cannot begin to compete So I'm packing my Bullets and Silvertones and heading east To a "brownstone up three flights of stairs" and it's on, on, on, on, it's I could have had my way, this year would bridge '66 again Trust fund hipsters were casing the room Chock-full of amphetamines The overturned kick drum boom Set the pace with incomparable cool And if the tempo was lousy it was lost on all but you And your studies of fringe New York Streets: I was reading the pavement in every word you would speak To a "brownstone up three flights of stairs" and it's on, on, on, on, it's on If I could have had my way, this year would bridge '66 again If I could have had my way, this year would bridge '66 again