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When you're nothing to no one
And you're less to your kin
And you're looking for someone
Who won't cling to anything
So you're stuck in some motel
With the sound of her sleeping
Don't you feel kind of old now
Well, ain't that a funny thing
I used to wake up early
I used to try to believe
But life seems neverending
When you're young
So you're back on the highway
And there's wind in her hair
And you know that it's no time for thinking
About somebody up there
Beause you'll turn her to drinking
And you'll lead her to hell
With her bible beside her
She surely looks like an angel
I used to wake up early
I used to try to believe
But faith is never easy
When you're young
I used to wake up early
Now it's hard, hard enough to sleep
But life seems neverending
When you're young
Blame Mary Jane
I'm drinking cheap bar rain
She's getting prettier by the shot
She says I should care more
For the rich and the poor
But I can't find the energy
Blame Mary Jane
I'm going to close my eyes to the morning papers
Shut my ears to the news
I'm going to lose my soul in the lonesome afternoons
Speak plain, Mary Jane
Could you give your hand
To a man who never gave a damn?
I swear I'd rather sleep than think
And nothing more than drink
And all I want is to blame Mary Jane
I'm going to close my eyes to the morning papers
Shut my ears to the news
I'm going to lose my soul in the long lonesome afternoons
And maybe I won't be your whipping boy
I won't be your whipping boy
Shame, baby shame
Oh shame, sweet Mary Jane
I truly do love you
She said
I should care more for that body of yours
If you carry the weight of the world
I'm going to close my eyes to the morning papers
Shut my ears to the news
I'm going to lose my soul in the long lonesome afternoons
And maybe I will be your whipping boy
Maybe I will
I was cleaning out the ashtrays
I was easily impressed
Undrestanding Matthew's cigarettes
I was eating all his glamour
His pills and his garbage
You might say that I swallowed it all
Matt's out in the garden
Sowing seeds of discontent
And he's working for that magazine again
Me, I'm out in the world
Tring to meet my payments girl
He's back in the closet where it's '57
When you call my name
It's the witching hour, I know
Now I'm walking down 4th street
You pass me by, you don't even speak
And your look’s just like a spit in the eye
Well sister, I'm out in the world
Yes, I meet my payments girl
You're back in the closet where it's '57
When you call my name
It's the witching hour, I know
