Melancholy Baby

I'm waving at the aluminum bird in vain
as you sit nervously in its belly

I walk away when it disappears
behind a Hindenburg-like cloud
and for a moment I wonder if that means anything

a neon sign beckons to me from the side of the road
two swinging cowboy boots
and a pair of blue words - Cold Beer

I take a Gennesee and peruse the juke box
I should play something happy
but choose Daniel instead

and I feel like I'm in the film Paris, Texas or Fool for Love
and Harry Dean Stanton's about to walk through the door
and Sam Shepard or Dennis Hopper's with him
'cause that's the kind of joint this is

and I'd pull up a chair and ask for a cigarette
and be some kind of melancholy baby
as you soar above me into your new life