I met a kid in Brooklyn and he pointed at the skies He had liquor on his breath and he had fire in his eyes He staggered at me and stumbled and I helped him to his feet I led him up the stairs and sat upon his balcony He wielded up his glass and waved it around just like a sword But one more sword of whiskey left me feeling pretty bored He said, Id rather take dead aim than shoot my pistol in the air Id rather be a traitor than a man who doesnt care. Oh oh oh A man who doesnt care Oh oh I met a girl here in Ithaca She took to me at once I look just like her brother who had died when she was young She whispered me her secrets and she whispered me her fear And said so many things that I would never want to hear She tried to draw me in just like a sickness in the soul And said, my little confidant together we must go If they ask you for your papers, just respectfully decline Its true I was born here but this country isnt mine. Oh oh oh This country isnt mine Oh oh So listen well son To conversation And always take from the words of the people that you meet If you do this Bear and witness You might help a little still And out in California With an old dear friend We drank expensive burbon And we tried to talk again He looked out at his watch And ran a hand across his head Said, Im working in the morning Man Ive got to get to bed. I nodded yes of course And I was happy to oblige And we both took one more sip Before the gray light over skies He said one thing I remember every evening in these hills the sun may set on friendship But never on your bills. Oh oh oh Never on your bills Oh oh So listen well son To conversation And always take from the words of the people that you meet If you do this Bear and witness You might help a little still
said, whispered, witness, conversation, burbon