From the Top

If you look east
You can see the park
Where I proposed to Vivian

We sat on the grass
No blanket
I forgot to bring a blanket
So we sat on the grass

My hands were so shaking so badly
That when I popped open the box
The ring flew out and hit her just below the eye

'What the hell are you doing,' she asked me
'I'm proposing!'
'What,' she said, 'You wanna marry a blind girl?'

That's when I knew
We'd be married forever

I knew everything then

Last night, when she kicked me out
I wandered all over the city

You know, every day
I drive in
I go to my office
On the fourteenth floor of this building
I run my company with an iron fist
Then I get on a train at seven o'clock
And go home
Where I fall onto a couch
And pass out
Until dinner
Then I eat
Go upstairs
And pass out again
Until my alarm goes off
At five the next day

That's been my life
For all these years

And I thought it was fine
I really did

Because that life afforded me
And my wife and our children
A nice house
And nice clothes
And good food
And tuition
And tennis lessons
And all sorts of things

And nobody complained
Not when they were getting
All they were getting

Then last night I call
To tell Vivian
I'm going to be home late
And she tells me don't come home at all

She changed the locks
And she wants a divorce

So...

. . . . .

You know, every night
I'd ride the train
Out of this city

And on my way to the station
I'd look out
And see the theaters
And think--
I should take Viv to the theater
One of these days

And I'd see that gallery
With the old guy on the bench in front of it
And I'd think--
Maybe Viv would like that

I saw all these things
I knew she'd like
But by the time I got home
I'd be so beat
The last thing I'd want to do
Was go back into the city

I had my whole life
Nice and compartmentalized
Work--city, everything else--life

Maybe at some point
The work became my life
And the rest of the time
Became sleep

Maybe I stopped living
And didn't even realize it
Until my wife said
She was sick of being married
To a corpse

So I took a taxi around the city

I stopped by the theater and saw half a show
I went by the gallery, saw a photo of a naked woman
And promptly walked out

I got a bite to eat at this diner
Where the waitress kept giggling at me

I asked her what was so funny
And she said 'It's almost midnight. That's pretty funny.'

What did I expect?

City people are crazy

Anybody looking at me right now
Would think I was about to kill myself

A guy on the roof of his office building
Who just that day received troublesome personal news

They'd have the negotiator talking to me
Right about now

If anybody in this city
Ever thought to look up

Don't worry
I have no plans on killing myself

I'll try to get Vivian to reconsider the divorce
And if I guarantee that I'll spend less hours at the office
And take her to Aruba next week
She'll probably back down

And if she doesn't
I'll get a little bachelor pad here in the city
And spend all my time
Getting served runny eggs
By giggling waitresses

I only came up here
So I could get a better look
At the other woman

The city

She's beautiful all right
But she's nothing compared to my Viv

A lot of lights and sounds
But nothing that can warm you up
Or pat you on the shoulder
And let you know your dinner's ready

If you look west
You can see the hospital
Where our daughter Eve was born

If you look north
You can see where we had our first place
In a dingy little three-story walk-up
Right above the woman
Who cooked nothing but cabbage
Seven days a week

And if you look south
You can see the train tracks
That should have taken me home
A few hours ago

Now the sun's about to come up

I can hear the storefronts opening
I can hear a few car horns
I can hear birds confused
By the city lights
Going to bed
Way too early

Pretty soon I'll have to start a new day

From now on
There will be nothing constant
But interruption

. . . . .

I let her down
I let my girl down

That's the hard part, you know
Knowing I let her down