Apartment 21

Rain on my Sunday shoes

Pick up the daily news

Looks like tomorrow's blues, but it's better than none

And call on the telephone

Knowin' that he's not home

I'll put on the Rolling Stones, and I can have me some fun

Start up a flight of stairs

Stand up and comb your hair

Try not to change things more than you can withstand

Get into somethin' new

That's made for a year or two

Pick up the pieces where you think they might lay

Every day goes, another day's gone

Hate to say so, but I'm gettin' older day by day

Take off all your clothes

Stand up and wipe your nose

Cry for your daddy you lost so long ago

Jump on another plane

Today, it's all the same

You can catch me in Boston 'cause that's how it goes

I'm here in Apartment 21

Stop by and have some fun

Say, "How you doin', you old son of a gun?"

Look at a photograph

Lord, don't it make you laugh?

All those changes, what have we done?

And I say—

Sit down and write a song

Wait till the days grow long

Wait for the autumn wind to blow me away