New Bomb Turks

Quarter To Four

New Bomb Turks


Well the night was lost. 
The night was sore. 
Then my pockets emptied 
as the beer downpoured. 
What at last was on 
was now quarter to four. 
Another wasted night. 

So this night was right 
for stupid sin. 
Yeah the holding out 
was caving in. 
The slickest sinner 
always wins the prize 
of a wasted night. 

I wanna go, I wanna stay. 
I wanna say something. 
I've got nothing to say. 
Another wasted night. 

I close my eyes, 
don't wanna see 
the sun coming up 
on my history. 

So if the chance comes down 
to steal a kiss 
you nab what you can 
resignation is bliss. 
I never brake when I hit the skids 
on a wasted night. 

See we can close our eyes, 
let our hands pretend 
we can kill this life 
with tight grips and hedged bets 
that will ditch this world. 
But for now let's curl 
into this wasted night. 

Crawling like James Dean 
for his toy monkey. 
Living by night, in a lonely place. 
My father was Nicholas Ray.