A train sounds off with whistle blowing Lighthouse horn sounds early warning Clean cool air with stars out shining Overcoat and whisky drinking Hands locked tight and close together These nights are bliss in drunken leisure Spitting air in gusts as it gets cooler Sparse clouds try to come together You can feel the chill and bid farewell As you start leaving Sounds like an evening The stars thin out on empty streets No traffic jams to make you weak Shopkeepers leave, at home they speak of good patrons, of cash and thieves The wind is gaining ground on you the air turns damp with seaside dew but it don't lie, it tells the truth And all is well and all is new Your west side is a teenage waiting Los Angeles a childhood haze Like steps to nowhere you sit there gazing at friends you've lost through years of forgetting Time sells you short of all you're wanting though you don't know what you're seeking except winter nights and cigarettes and boozing with the best of them
