Lyrics

Grady's Bar is no saloon Drinking on a Monday afternoon The air has its unique pungent smell Unique to the Seneca Hotel I close my windows every night But nothing can keep out the light It nags me awake It keeps me pinned right in my place It keeps me pinned right in my place I wish I was an international sensation I'd blame these words on a bad translation Translating Edgar Alan Poe Is it pure? I'll never know The sky is full of lots of things Evil dreams and the coming rain Rain must be true I read it in a New York Times book review I read it in a New York Times book review So that's what you get when you open your eyes We'll rendezvous and hope to die Drink our toasts to last goodbyes And dream of a long-lost lover's thighs The charlatans feign indignation I'll drink gin and tonic and heart medication Don't worry about a thing Don't be afraid of anything Don't be afraid of anything