Lyrics
That's Paul's Boutique
Ask for Janice when you call there
For the best in men's clothing
Stop that train, I wanna get off
Well, it's 4AM, I've got the Haffenreffer ale
I've got nothing to lose so I'm pissin' on the third rail
Groggy eyed and fried, I'm headed for the station
A D-train ride to Coney Island vacation
Dedicated to the boofers in the back of the one train
They'll be kicking out windows high on cocaine
And then I jump the turnstile because I can't afford a token
Riding between the cars, pissin', smokin'
Head for the last car, fluorescent light blackout
Policeman told my homeboy, put that crack out
You know you light up when the lights go down
And then you read the New York post, Fulton St., downtown
Same faces every day, but you don't know their names
Party people going placed on the D-train
Stop that train, I wanna get off
Trench coat, wing tip, going to work
And you'll be pulling a train like Captain Kirk
Pick pocket gangsters paying their debts
I caught a bullet in the lung from Bernie Goetz
Overworked and underpaid, staring at the floor
Prostitutes spandex caught in the slide doors
And now you're stuck between the stations and it seems like an eternity
Sweating like swine in a flophouse fraternity
Fifty dollar fine, I'm disturbing the peace
The neck, turtle, the lease, creased
Hot cup of coffee and the donuts are Dunkin'
Friday night and Jamaica, Queens funkin'
Elevated platform, I'm never gonna conform
Riding over the diner where I always get my toast warm
Bust into the conductor's booth and bustin' out rhymes
Over the loud speaker about hard times
Sat across from a man readin' El Diario
Riding the train down from the El Barrio
Went from the station straight to Orange Julius
I bought a hot dog from man George Drakoulias