A Broken Tenor

Red. Blue. Where are you tonight? You say everything just right, you say everything's just right. I live on a dead end street where men and women meet, the country's really far from me. Where the seasons get universal. Why are you still surprised by a quart of gin and a quarter scotch, a quiet airplane and a half-hour off the clock? Where are you? Your hair knows. Your hair knows the top of your T-shirt and your back was up in arms about it. But I'm not as good as the inner states are, I just can't take you that far. To a Polish town, or to a German town in German tongues. In time with Irish rounds, did he hear that you were young and [bad word] girl was you? Red. Blue. Where are you tonight?