I heard a wharf rat's high-pitch song Underneath the dimmest yellow lights last night I was dockside waiting for a guy Who knows what it's like to be alone in this town The river smelled like a fishmonger's hands As it lapped up my tasteless reflection Leather weather blew in from the east On a high wind train with it's tar top down And every vessel in my broken sea Cries out for my blood tonight Seen the headlights of Vincent's car He pulled his ride up slowly Just like God would Nothing different from any Friday night We sat and we smoked on his lukewarm hood Small talk before the exchange Is Vincent's way of easing his own soul Into a spot in the dark parking lot Of a conscience that weighs More than all the dope in this world Handful of chestnuts Mouthful of April rain Stomachful of two plain slices The notes of life are hard to explain An eyeful of lunchtime girls Closet full of red wine stains Earful of subway trumpet The notes of life are all that remain Took out my money in fair due time To hand to my man for a dance with his lady Just as the moon unholstered itself From a cop colored coat of a downtown cloud And Vince, he paused with his back to my face And that's when I heard the stones grind behind me You don't need eyes on the back of your head To tell you when you're done out loud And every vessel in my broken sea Walks out on my skin tonight From a rooftop up in the Bronx Tonight I sweep down across my breathing city Feel so light The taste of the night Is sweet gushing across my tongue Through midnight smoke and skyscraper glow I descend down for to deliver The final notes of a wharf rat's song To my body floating in the river The notes of life are all that remain