I was heading to the bus stop, Matty, You were reading in your room, Holed up all day. You picked me up in a brand new Audi And said, "She bought it for herself on Mother´s Day."
Then we hum along To some familiar tune. "I like women and songs," You said, "It´s from volume two".
Then you give me one, Another you just finished. You´re my library, Always open for business. But you never show it; You´re just sitting with it. But I know the score, And you´re killin´ it.
Line after line, When you´re taking it in. Time after time,
When you try to fit in to some white shoes Or a blue collar.
So we listened to your choice for the first ten seconds. I turned the dial And it turned your expression. I said, "Now, haven´t you learned your last lesson?" I try to understand; I just don´t get it.
Then we hum along All from memory, "I like women and songs," You said, "It´s from volume three".
Take me to the bus stop, Matty,
Drive me back to Hamilton. You talk about your step-dad funny. You sound just like your father´s son. In ´98 he liberated Every Latin rhythm. He never used to play it ´Cause she could never stand to listen.