christa couture – in the papers lyrics
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she wakes up startled, shakes off the remnants of the night
ever forgetful, she takes her time to adjust to light
empties the ashtray, pulls out her suitcase
they’ll be all over this in the papers
morning, coffee, she sings harlem blues just a touch off key
wanders and lingers, she’s in no rush to take her leave
eyes the crack in the window and the human traffic below
they’ll be all over this in the lobby, in the taxi
airplane descending, new york appears a carpet of gold
she wonders and marvels at the thought of “how many light bulbs?”
the man sat beside her reminds her of another
they’ll be all over this when it’s over, and it’s over
hold on
hold on
hold on to someone
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