A train sounds off with whistle blowing
lighthouse horn sounds early warning
clean cool air with stars out shining
overcoat and whiskey drinking
hands locked tight and close together
these nights are bliss in drunken leisure
spitting air in gusts as it gets cooler
spase clouds try to come together
You can feel the chill and bid farewell
as you start leaving
sounds like an evening
The cars thin out on empty streets
no traffic jams to make you weak
shopkeepers leave, at home they speak
of good patrons and of cash and thieves
the wind is gaining ground on you
the air turns damp with seaside dew
but it don't lie, it tells the truth
and all is well and all is new
Your west side is a teenage waiting
los angeles a childhood haze
like steps to nowhere you sit there gazing
at friends you've lost through years of forgetting
time sells you short of all you're wanting
though you don't know just what you're seeking
except winter nights and cigarettes
and boozing with the best of them