Fall Of '92

Last thing I remember before it all went wrong
Back in the fall of '92
We were skipping rocks across the water
Till the tourists were all gone
Then I slipped it to you sideways
Right there on the beach at Malibu

There was nothing we wouldn't do then
No place we wouldn't go
All in our falling-outward 733
So maybe you can tell me
How was I supposed to know
That I'd be standing out here in the soup line
In this post-Bush, post Cold-War economy

You do remember little Foxy, the funny little dog we found
Out romping on the beach that day
Last week I sold your ruby earrings
Took old Foxy to the pound
You should have heard him howling
As that old Beemer pulled away

Say, I wonder are you happy, whatever you got up to now
Out somewhere slinging pussy I suppose
Out there on the pavement
As the weather would allow
Just another aging would-be starlet
In cheap perfume and flashy clothes

It was you and me and little Foxy
That funny little dog we used to love
Out romping on the beach all day
Sometimes I just lie awake and wonder
Just what we were thinking of
When we were out there voting for those bastards
Who gave the whole damn store away

'Cause it was all good times, sunshine
Not so very long ago
At least as it applied to you and me
Did we ever stand a chance, girl
Now I guess we'll never know
Thanks to George Bush and those Nazis
Down in Washington, D.C.
Way down in Washington, D.C. . .

(transcribed by John Moore)