The last time I saw Richard was Detroit in 68
And he told me all romantics meet the same fate someday
Cynical, and drunk, and boring, someone in some dark café
"You laugh," he says, "You think you're immune
Go look at your eyes, they're two blue moons
They're like roses and kisses
And pretty men to tell you all those pretty lies"
Pretty lies
When you gonna realize
They're only pretty lies, just pretty lies
Just pretty lies
He put a quarter in the whirl at Sarah
And he pushed three buttons and the thing began to whirl
And a barmaid came by in fishnet stockings and a bow tie
And she said,"Drink up now, it's getting on time to close"
Richard, you haven't really changed
I said, "It's just that now, you're romanticizing
Some pain that's in your head
You got tombstones in your eyes
With the songs you punched to dreaming"
They talk of love so sweet, love so sweet
When you gonna get yourself back on your feet
Oh, love can be so sweet
So sweet
Richard got married to a figure skater
And he bought her a dishwasher and a coffee percolator
And he drinks at home, now, most nights with the TV on
And all the house lights left upright
I'm gonna blow this damn candle out
I don't want nobody coming over to my table
I got nothing to talk to anybody about
All good dreamers pass this way someday
Hiding behind bottles in dark cafés, dark cafés
Only a dark cocoon before I get my gorgeous wings
And I fly away, only a phase
These dark café days
