Tom Waits : Small Change

(Four Sheets To The Wind In Copenhagen)

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Wasted and wounded, it ain't what the moon did

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I've got what I paid for now

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See you tomorrow, hey Frank, can I borrow

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A couple of bucks from you?

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To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda

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You'll go waltzing Matilda with me I'm an innocent victim of a blinded alley And I'm tired of all these soldiers here No one speaks English, and everything's broken And my Stacys are soaking wet To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda You'll go waltzing Matilda with me Now the dogs are barking and the taxi cab's parking A lot they can do for me I begged you to stab me, you tore my shirt open And I'm down on my knees tonight Old Bushmill's I staggered, you'd bury the dagger In your silhouette window light Go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda You'll go waltzing Matilda with me Now I lost my Saint Christopher now that I've kissed her And the one-armed bandit knows And the maverick Chinamen, and the cold-blooded signs And the girls down by the strip-tease shows Go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda You'll go waltzing Matilda with me No, I don't want your sympathy, the fugitives say That the streets aren't for dreaming now And manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories They want a piece of the action anyhow To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda You'll go waltzing Matilda with me And you can ask any sailor, and the keys from the jailer And the old men in wheelchairs know And Matilda's the defendant, she killed about a hundred And she follows wherever you may go To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda You'll go waltzing Matilda with me And it's a battered old suitcase to a hotel someplace And a wound that will never heal No prima donna, the perfume is on an

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Old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey

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And goodnight to the street sweepers, the night watchmen flame keepers

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And goodnight to Matilda, too | (

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Step right up Step right up Step right up Everyone's a winner, bargains galore That's right, you too can be the proud owner Of the quality goes in before the name goes on One-tenth of a dollar One-tenth of a dollar We got service after sales You need perfume? we got perfume How 'bout an engagement ring? Something for the little lady? Something for the little lady? Something for the little lady? Hmm... Three for a dollar We got a year-end clearance, we got a white sale And a smoke-damaged furniture You can drive it away today Act now, act now And receive as our gift, our gift to you They come in all colors, one size fits all No muss, no fuss, no spills You're tired of kitchen drudgery Everything must go Going out of business Going out of business Going out of business sale Fifty percent off original retail price Skip the middle man Don't settle for less How do we do it? How do we do it? Volume, volume, turn up the volume Now you've heard it advertised, don't hesitate Don't be caught with your drawers down Don't be caught with your drawers down You can step right up Step right up That's right, it filets, it chops It dices, slices, never stops Lasts a lifetime, mows your lawn And it mows your lawn And it picks up the kids from school It gets rid of unwanted facial hair It gets rid of embarrassing age spots It delivers a pizza And it lengthens, and it strengthens And it finds that slipper that's been at large Under the chaise longe for several weeks And it plays a mean Rhythm Master It makes excuses for unwanted lipstick on your collar And it's only a dollar, step right up It's only a dollar, step right up 'Cause it forges your signature If not completely satisfied Mail back unused portion of product For complete refund of price of purchase Step right up Please allow thirty days for delivery Don't be fooled by cheap imitations You can live in it, live in it Laugh in it, love in it Swim in it, sleep in it Live in it, swim in it Laugh in it, love in it Removes embarrassing stains from contour sheets That's right And it entertains visiting relatives It turns a sandwich into a banquet Tired of being the life of the party? Change your shorts Change your life Change your life Change into a nine year-old Hindu boy Get rid of your wife And it walks your dog, and it doubles on sax Doubles on sax, you can jump back Jack See you later alligator See you later alligator And it steals your car It gets rid of your gambling debts, it quits smoking It's a friend, and it's a companion And it's the only product you will ever need Follow these easy assembly instructions It never needs ironing Well it takes weights off hips, bust, thighs, chin, midriff Gives you dandruff, and it finds you a job It is a job And it strips the phone company free Take ten for five exchange And it gives you denture breath And you know it's a friend, and it's a companion And it gets rid of your traveler's checks It's new, it's improved, it's old-fashioned Well it takes care of business Never needs winding Never needs winding Never needs winding Gets rid of blackheads, the heartbreak of psoriasis Christ, you don't know the meaning of heartbreak, buddy C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon 'Cause it's effective, it's defective It creates household odors It disinfects, it sanitizes for your protection It gives you an erection It wins the election Why put up with painful corns any longer? It's a redeemable coupon, no obligation No salesman will visit your home We got a jackpot, jackpot, jackpot Prizes, prizes, prizes, all work guaranteed How do we do it? How do we do it? How do we do it? How do we do it? We need your business We're going out of business We'll give you the business Get on the business End of our going-out-of-business sale Receive our free brochure, free brochure Read the easy-to-follow assembly instructions Batteries not included Send before midnight tomorrow, terms available Step right up Step right up Step right up You got it buddy, the large print giveth And the small print taketh away Step right up You can step right up You can step right up C'mon step right up (Get away from me kid, you bother me...) Step right up, step right up, step right up C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon Step right up You can step right up C'mon and step right up C'mon and step right up

(Sharing a Curbstone with Chuck E. Weiss, Robert Marchese, Paul Body and The Mug and Artie)

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Well I'm a jitterbug boy by the shoe-shine

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Resting on my Laurels and my Hardys too

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Life of Riley on the swing shift, girls follow my drift

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Once upon a time I was in showbiz too I seen the Brooklyn Dodgers playing at Ebbet's Field Seen the Kentucky Derby too It's fast women, slow horses, unreliable sources And I'm holding up a lamp-post, if you want to know I seen the Wabash Cannonball, buddy, I've done it all Because I slept with the lions and Marilyn Monroe Had breakfast in the eye of a hurricane Fought Rocky Marciano, played Minnesota Fats Burned hundred dollar bills, I eaten Mulligan stew Got drunk with Louis Armstrong, what's that old song? I taught Mickey Mantle everything that he knows And so you'll ask me what I'm doing here, holding up a lamp-post Flipping this quarter, trying to make up my mind And if it's heads I'll go to Tennessee, and tails I'll buy a drink

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) If it lands on the edge I'll keep talking to you Zoza dee, zaboo aye... Zaboo izzy aye aye...

(In the Ninth Ward)

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Well I wish I was in New Orleans

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I can see it in my dreams

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Arm-in-arm down Burgundy

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A bottle and my friends and me

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Hoist up a few tall cool ones

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Play some pool and listen to that

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Tenor saxophone callin' me home And I can hear the band begin When the Saints Go Marching In By the whiskers on my chin New Orleans I'll be there I'll drink you under the table Be red nose go for walks The old haunts what I wants is red beans and rice And wear the dress I like so well And meet me at the old saloon Make sure there's a Dixie moon New Orleans, I'll be there And deal the cards, roll the dice If it ain't that ol' Chuck E. Weiss And Clayborn Avenue, me and you, Sam Jones and all And I wish I was in New Orleans I can see it in my dreams On and on down Burgundy A bottle and my friends and me New Orleans, I'll be there

(An Evening With Pete King)

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The piano has been drinking

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My necktie is asleep

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And the combo went back to New York

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The jukebox has to take a leak

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And the carpet needs a haircut

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And the spotlight looks like a prison break

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'Cause the telephone's out of cigarettes

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And the balcony's on the make And the piano has been drinking The piano has been drinking And the menus are all freezing And the light man's blind in one eye And he can't see out of the other And the piano-tuner's got a hearing aid And he showed up with his mother And the piano has been drinking The piano has been drinking 'Cause the bouncer is a sumo wrestler Cream puff Caspar Milquetoast And the owner is a mental midget With the IQ of a fencepost 'Cause the piano has been drinking The piano has been drinking And you can't find your waitress with a geiger counter And she hates you and your friends And you just can't get served without her And the box office is drooling And the bar stools are on fire And the newspapers were fooling And the ashtrays have retired 'Cause the piano has been drinking The piano has been drinking The piano has been drinking Not me, not me Not me, not me Not me, not me Not me

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Well she's up against the register with an apron and a spatula

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With yesterday's deliveries and the tickets for the bachelors

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She's a moving violation from her conk down to her shoes

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But it's just an invitation to the blues

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And you feel just like Cagney, she looks like Rita Hayworth

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At the counter of the Schwab's drugstore

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You wonder if she might be single, she's a loner and likes to mingle

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Got to be patient, try and pick up a clue

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She said "How you gonna like 'em, over medium or scrambled?"

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You say "Anyway's the only way", be careful not to gamble

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On a guy with a suitcase and a ticket getting out of here

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In a tired bus station in an old pair of shoes

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This ain't nothing but an invitation to the blues

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But you can't take your eyes off her, get another cup of java

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And it's just the way she pours it for you, joking with the customers

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Mercy mercy, Mr Percy, there ain't nothing back in Jersey

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But a broken-down jalopy of a man I left behind

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And a dream that I was chasing, a battle with the booze

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And an open invitation to the blues

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But she used to have a sugar daddy and a candy-apple Caddy

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And a bank account and everything, accustomed to the finer things

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He probably left her for a socialite, and he didn't love her 'cept at night

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And then he's drunk and never even told her that he cared

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So they took the registration, and the car keys and her shoes

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And left her with an invitation to the blues

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'Cause there's a Continental Trailways leaving, local bus tonight, good evening

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You can have my seat, I'm sticking round here for a while

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Get me a room at the Squire, the filling station's hiring

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And I can eat here every night, what the hell have I got to lose?

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Got a crazy sensation, go or stay? now I gotta choose

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And I'll accept your invitation to the blues

(At The Two O'Clock Club)

Smelling like a brewery, looking like a tramp Ain't got a quarter, got a postage stamp Been five o'clock shadow-boxing all around the town Talking with the old man sleeping on the ground Bazanti bootin' Al, zootin' Al, hootin' Al Cohn Sharing this apartment with a telephone pole And a fishnet stocking, spike-heel shoes Got the strip-tease, prick-tease, car-keys blues And the porno floor show, live nude girls Dreamy and creamy and the brunette curls Chesty Morgan and Watermelon Rose Raise my rent and take off all your clothes With the trench coats, magazines, bottle full of rum She's so good she'd make a dead man come Pasties and a G-string, beer and a shot Portland through a shot glass, and a Buffalo squeeze Wrinkles and cherry and twinky and pinky And Fifi live from Gay Paree Fanfares rim shots, backstage, who cares? All this hot burlesque for me Cleavage! Cleavage! Thighs and hips From the nape of her neck to the lipstick lips Chopped and channeled and lowered and louvered And a cheater slicks and baby moons She's hot and ready and creamy and sugared And the band is awful and so are the tunes Crawlin' on her belly, shakin' like jelly And I'm getting harder than Chinese algebra Ziers and cheers from the compendium here Hey sweetheart they're yellin' for more Squashing out your cigarette butts on the floor And I like Shelly, and you like Jane What was the girl with the snake skin's name? It's an early bird matinee, come back any day Getcha a little somethin' that you can't get at home Getcha a little somethin' that you can't get at home It's pasties and a G-string, beer and a shot Portland through a shot glass, and a Buffalo squeeze Popcorn, front row, higher than a kite And I'll be back tomorrow night And I'll be back tomorrow night

(In Lowell)

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Well, I got a bad liver and a broken heart

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Yeah, I drunk me a river since you tore me apart

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And I don't have a drinking problem, except when I can't get a drink

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I wish you'd a known her, we were quite a pair

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She was sharp as a razor and soft as a prayer

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So welcome to the continuing saga

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She was my better half and I was just a dog

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And so here I am, slumped

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I've been chippied, I've been chumped on my stool

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So buy this fool some spirits and libations

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It's these railroad station bars

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And all these conductors and the porters

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And I'm all out of quarters

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And this epitaph is the aftermath

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Yeah, I choose my path, hey, come on, Kath

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He's a lawyer, he ain't the one for ya

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No, the moon ain't romantic, it's intimidating as hell

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And some guy's trying to sell me a watch

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And so I'll meet you at the bottom of a bottle of bargain Scotch

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I got me a bottle and a dream, it's so maudlin it seems

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You can name your poison, go on ahead and make some noise

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I ain't sentimental, this ain't a purchase, it's a rental

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And it's purgatory, and hey, what's your story?

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Well, I don't even care, 'Cause I got my own double-cross to bear

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And I'll see your Red Label, and I'll raise you one more

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And you can pour me a cab, I just can't drink no more

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'Cause it don't douse the flames that are started by dames

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It ain't like asbestos, it don't do nothing but rest us assured

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And substantiate the rumours that you've heard

The gigolo's jumping salty, ain't no trade out on the streets Half past the unlucky, and the hawk's a front-row seat Dressed in full orchestration, stage-door Johnny's got to pay And sent him home talking about the one that got away Could have been on easy street, could have been a wheel With irons in the fire and all them business deals But the last of the big-time losers shouted before he drove away "I'll be right back as soon as I crack the one that got away" The ambulance drivers don't give a shit, they just want to get off work And the short-stop and the victim have already gone berserk And the shroud-tailor measures him for a deep-six holiday The stiff is froze, the case is closed, on the one that got away Jim Crow's directing traffic with them cemetery blues With them peculiar looking trousers and them old Italian shoes The wooden kimono was all ready to drop in San Francisco Bay But now he's mumbling something all about the one that got away Costello was the champion at the St. Moritz Hotel And the best this side of Fairfax, reliable sources tell But his reputation is at large and he's at Ben Frank's every day Waiting for the one that got away He's got a snakeskin sports shirt, and he looks like Vincent Price With a little piece of chicken and he's carving off a slice But someone tipped her off, she'll be doing a Houdini now any day She shook his hustle, and a Greyhound bus 'll take the one that got away Andre is at the piano behind the Ivar in the sewers With a buck a shot for pop tunes, and a fin for guided tours He could have been in Casablanca, he stood in line out there all day Now he's spilling whiskey and learning songs about a one that got away Well I've lost my equilibrium, my car keys and my pride The tattoo parlor's warm and so I huddle there inside And the grinding of the buzz saw, "What you want that thing to say?" Just don't misspell her name, Buddy, she's the one that got away

(Got Rained On With His Own .38)

Small Change got rained on with his own .38 And nobody flinched down by the arcade And the marquise weren't weeping, they went stark raving mad And the cabbies were the only ones that really had it made And his cold trousers were twisted, and the sirens high and shrill And crumpled in his fist was a five dollar bill And the naked manikins with their Cheshire grins And the raconteurs and roustabouts said, "Buddy, come on in" 'Cause the dreams ain't broken down here, now they're walking with a limp Now that Small Change got rained on with his own .38 And nobody flinched down by the arcade And the burglar alarm's been disconnected and the newsmen start to rattle And the cops are telling jokes about some whorehouse in Seattle And the fire hydrants plead the 5th Amendment And the furniture's bargain's galore But the blood is by the jukebox on an old linoleum floor And it's a hot rain on 42nd Street and now the umbrellas ain't got a chance And the newsboy's a lunatic with stains on his pants 'Cause Small Change got rained on with his own .38 And no one's gone over to close his eyes And there's a racing form in his pocket circled "Blue Boots" in the 3rd And the cashier at the clothing store didn't say a word As the siren tears the night in half and someone lost his wallet Well it's surveillance of assailants, if that's what you wanna call it And the whores hike up their skirts and fish for drugstore prophylactics With their mouths cut just like razor blades and their eyes are like stilettos And her radiator's steaming and her teeth are in a wreck Now she won't let you kiss her but what the hell do you expect And the gypsies are tragic and if you Wanna to buy perfume Well, they'll bark you down like carnies, sell you Christmas cards in June But Small Change got rained on with his own .38 And his headstone's a gumball machine No more chewing gum or baseball cards or overcoats or dreams And someone is hosing down the sidewalk and he's only in his teens 'Cause Small Change got rained on with his own .38 And a fistful of dollars can't change that And someone copped his watch fob and someone got his ring And the newsboy got his pork-pie stetson hat And the tuberculosis old men at the Nelson wheeze and cough And someone will head south until this whole thing cools off 'Cause Small Change got rained on with his own .38 Yeah, Small Change got rained on with his own .38

(And See My Baby On Montgomery Avenue)

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Well, I don't mind working 'cause I used to be jerkin' off

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Most of my time in the bars

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I've been a cabbie and a stock clerk and a soda fountain jock jerk

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And a manic mechanic on cars

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It's nice work if you can get it, now, who the hell said it

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I got money to spend on my gal

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But the work never stops and I'll be busting my chops

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Working for Joe and Sal

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And I can't wait to get off work and see my baby

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She said she'd leave the porch light on for me

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I'm disheveled, I'm disdainful and I'm distracted and it's painful

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But this job sweeping up here is gainfully employing me tonight

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Tom do this! Tom do that! Tom, don't do that

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Count the cash, clean the oven, dump the trash, oh your lovin'

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Is a rare and a copacetic gift

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And I'm a moonlight watchmanic, it's hard to be romantic

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Sweeping up over by the cigarette machine

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Sweeping up over by the cigarette machine

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I can't wait to get off work and see my baby

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She'll be waiting up with a magazine for me

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Clean the bathrooms, clean 'em good

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Oh my lovin', I wish you would come down here and sweep me off my feet

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This broom will have to be my baby

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If I hurry, I just might get off before the dawn's early light

Tom Waits : Small Change
1976

Tom Traubert's Blues

Step Right Up

Jitterbug Boy

I Wish I Was In New Orleans

The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me)

Invitation To The Blues

Pasties And A G-string

Bad Liver And A Broken Heart

The One That Got Away

Small Change

I Can't Wait To Get Off Work

Tom Waits : Small Change 1976

Tom Traubert's Blues

Step Right Up

Jitterbug Boy

I Wish I Was In New Orleans

The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me)

Invitation To The Blues

Pasties And A G-string

Bad Liver And A Broken Heart

The One That Got Away

Small Change

I Can't Wait To Get Off Work

Tom Waits : Small Change
1976