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I Put My Trenchcoat On |
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At one point, I was asked for a noir song. Obviously, it made perfect sense to add some time travel. |
Recording |
Lyrics |
I Put My Trenchcoat On |
Woke up one morning,
Down on my luck, Whisky my only friend, And I hadn’t got a dime. Fate had me in her sights, And I was a sitting duck. That was when I found The portal through time. If you can believe it In the blink of an eye The world went strange. It’s hard to understand. I can’t accept that sixty Years have gone by. It’s as if I’m travelling In a foreign land. But since I am stuck here, I may as well try To fit in, So I’ve set up a room, Advertised my services As a P.I. I don’t know why the office Is still empty as a tomb. I put my trenchcoat on, Slip a mickey in my pocket, Straighten my fedora, Go out into the night. I wish that somebody Would tell me what an iPhone Is. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be all right With my trenchcoat on. I am a gumshoe; It’s all that I know, Beating the grimy streets For clue after clue, Drunk on despair, Knowing there are no Easy answers in anything I do. I’m fine with forensics, But you gotta see There’s a line. What’s the deal with DNA? All of this procedure Is stifling me. I wanna shoot a crook; that’s Just the better way. I put my trenchcoat on, Slip a mickey in my pocket, Straighten my fedora, Go out into the night. I wish that somebody Would tell me what an iPhone Is. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be all right With my trenchcoat on. Just yesterday night, I tried to get back in the game: Went out to a boozy joint to score me a dame. I still don’t know What “sexual harrassment” might mean. If my cases can’t come from some woman named “Trouble,” Then where will I get them? And where is the rubble? The city’s disturbingly bright and way too clean. I sit in my office, Watch the light leak Through the half-closed blinds; There’s nowhere I can go. I don’t know how to cope, And it’s only been a week. No one in this time needs The things that I know. I guess it’s ironic, ‘Cause not fitting in Is my thing, And now I’m even more outside, Watching from the margins, Drowning in gin. My cynicism’s rising On an alcoholic tide. I put my trenchcoat on, Slip a mickey in my pocket, Straighten my fedora, Go out into the night. I wish that somebody Would tell me what an iPhone Is. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be all right With my trenchcoat on. I put my trenchcoat on, Slip a mickey in my pocket, Straighten my fedora, Go out into the night. I wish that somebody Would tell me what an iPhone Is. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be all right With my trenchcoat on. Back to Music page |