Letras
Every Friday night at ten, I would call for my best friend
And sneak a couple of his daddy's Ballantine's
And we'd do them in a flash, getting off behind the trash
Then we'd run to catch the Double A to City Line
And we'd walk straight to the rear, didn't want nobody near
And we'd goof on every ugly girl who came along
And we'd sing the latest tune, and make some elbow room
City Liners, 30 members strong
Yes, the boys would meet on a dead end street
And brag about their women to pass away the time
And they'd shoot the breeze on their knees
Whoa, how I miss that City Line
Saturday night, the same old thing, except we'd switch to wine
Seems it got us there in half the time
Freddie Bauman's disappeared, you know he's married Lucille Stein
And them City Liners down to 29
Yes, the boys would meet on a dead end street
And brag about their women to pass away the time
And they'd shoot the breeze on their knees
Whoa, how I miss that City Line
Sunday night, I'm all alone like the four other nights in the week
School in the morning, and I got to get my sleep
Well, even now, 16 years later, with all that left behind
I still think about my City Line
Yes, the boys would meet on a dead end street
And brag about their women to pass away the time
And they'd shoot the breeze on their knees
Whoa, how I miss that City Line