A Blue Kind of Woman

She had blue lipstick on

A woman her age

Sitting at a hotel bar

Trying to pick me up

With blue lipstick on

Airline stewardesses

Past their prime

Or maybe, I don’t know

Maybe she’s a businesswoman

A CEO type

Twice-divorced

Trying to impress some young kid

Talking about all the dick she gets

When she goes around

And I'm like--

I know you go around
And good for you

Good for you, lady

You get yourself around

Sounds good

But you ain’t gettin’ around

With me

Not with that blue lipstick

She wants to invite me to, uh

To have me go up to her room

Smelling like the back of a kitchen

Probably turns her on

Probably entices her

Knowing she’s going to screw

Some twenty-one year-old busboy

Who doesn’t have two nickels

And don’t give a fuck about it neither

She wants to leave blue lipstick on my neck
So when I go home

My girl will think

I’ve been out here

Kissing trashy girls

Even younger than I am

And I’ll have to tell her

It was some old lady

Telling me she’s one age

When you gotta add ten years

To get the truth

And my girl’ll say--

‘Oh, that’s better?’

And I’ll say--

‘Nah, but it’s closer to real'

And the shoulder goes cold
All the same

I bet her hotel room was blue

I bet her bra and her nightgown was blue

I bet her power suit for tomorrow is blue

I bet

I don’t know

If I was a better man?

I’d bet

That her fucking soul

Down into her whatever whatever

Is blue

She’s a--

Ha

She’s one of those blue kind of women

It’s not just the lips

And the lies

And the liquor

It’s the whole damn

Fucking package, man

All of it

It’s all kinds of blue

Let Bob Dylan tell you about it

He knows what’s up

You think I don’t know Bob Dylan?

Shit

I’m a student

Of history

And the man

Was a historian

He was a chronicler

He knew about blue

Women like her

She’d listen to a song

And hear some words

Like they’re something

To sing along to

I hear a song

About--

It’s this kind of blue

Or that kind of blue

And all of a sudden

I’m really paying attention

Because somebody’s trying to tell me

That there’s a way to be in this world

That’s better than hotel bars

And hotel kitchens

And lobbies full of people

Trying not to go up to an empty room

So they can watch their blue movies

And sleep on their blue beds

Trying not to get blue balls

Because nobody wants them

And nobody ever will

It’s blue, you know?

And my life?

My life?

I don’t know

Gotta be something

Don’t want to be left

Holding my check

And some change

And a bar tab with a room number on it

Five-oh-something

Fuck

All that blue

All that purple

Dashwood

Devil

Blue