European Son

Scurrying across the broadwalk
Some places I tend to forget
Echoings deep in my throat
It’s so cold in this luncheonette, well
Somebody wants to know you
An ordinary boy
Somebody wants to know you
A standard polaroid, well
Here I am
European son
Sometimes the passenger
European son
Here I am
Suffragettes in Washington
Disposable serviettes
Searching for the quiet life
There’s no love in this luncheonette, well