Quarters

Lyrics for Quarters

I travel where you worked Was cold and dark as a cavern You kept quarters in your shirt But I never could just have them You always made me sweep around every flying floozy Under booths and bums asleep Waking up, they'd ask you, "Who's he?" Behind a glass without a glance "My daughter's boy," you would say Well, I stood there in a trance Listening to the jukebox play