Sitting on the corner
Nothing to do with my hands
Steel furniture on York and 51st ave
Underneath my favorite pizza sign
What is it about that pale red light?
Darling waitress with the moon tattoo
To end up in some stranger's journal
Maybe I should get one, too
What are we doing working jobs, Daisy?
Where's our Paris flat?
Can't you see our clothesline, Daisy?
Damn the laundromat
I want deep pockets
Deep like a man's
Deep enough at least for me to shove my little hands
While I'm leaning up against
Instead of sticking up real straight
I don't think they make pockets that deep in this state
I'm a cosmo, Daisy
Daisy, you're a precious stone
Why can't being precious be what gets us left alone?
I was 14, cigarette looking lollipop
Often the cop slow, but never the cop stop
So you're 23, lollipop looking cigarette
Wont we always be unregistered suffragettes?
I want deep pockets
Deep like a man's
Deep enough at least for me to shove my great big hands
While I'm leaning up against
Nod to every passing girl
I don't think they make pockets that deep in the world