Kelly Joe Phelps Taylor John Taylor had wife she was marrie to the mirror She could make her glass-eyes lover buy a drink And then another round round the kitchen table lines with cigarettes From years ago last nicht one fell clean to the floor. Taylor would to marvel at the way the music sounded As she drifted down the carpet-bag to put another lamp shade on There she was so young and pretty, holding out her hand To the last five years that living took away. It's a scavenger hunt in the best of times A one-armed man with a box of dimes Throw the stick and let the bulldog roll. Taylor's 37 yesterday she'll be 21 An asphalt rhodosenron where she fell across the car Pocketbook ecploding with the money of delusion winks her smoking yellowed eyes and rolls snakes along the floor. It's a scavenger hunt in the best of times A one-armed man with a box of dimes Throw the stick and let the bulldog roll. Parting like tomorrow is a vestibule of commerce "No regret, says I" says she Waltzing to the ice machine Where another hotel key has left a scar upon the soul But her feet are nimble still When she wants she can go It's a scavenger hunt in the best of times A one-armed man with a box of dimes Throw the stick and let the bulldog roll. "Come all your little sailors with a penchant for the sea Look away John below for Taylor John he wants to be like me Drowning in the water with his collar turnes up cool Tries to breathe now a wretches stain Floats like a fool."