everyone's asleep in the hotel cotton beds
everyone's awake in the houses uptown
but we still had that place
where we kept all our clothes
and called it home until the day
we watched it decompose

and this is all we've got
plaid shirts and opened drawers
or old men in movie theatres
thinking about their lives
i don't know just what to do
when i see them cry
and i wonder if they're all alone
and how do they get by

and will i end up like them

i could drink this coffee
until i lose my nerves
but it won't help me understand
my fear of being awake
so i'll retreat to the mountains
where no one can see me climb
and i will be alone, i'll be alone, i'll be just fine

so pour the sand out of your shoes
and wash your dirty hair
no money coney island blues
we haven't even been there