Five Girls

Five girls leaning on the bar tonight
Five tattoos at the small of their back
Since when did our skin become a canvas?
I want to ask the one with the cellophane backpack
Yeah, and I think that I might tell her
That she's looking like a billboard
With that shirt that's cute
But oh-so-inappropriate for the season
Instead I drag my hand across the bar
And grab my keys and walk away
Oh, but you can't be crucified
For the things that you don't say

There's something going down on 7th Avenue
Some dude handcuffed and down on his knees
And these boys couldn't be less interested
Bunch of Kojak wannabes
Yeah, well, you could shave your head and suck a lollipop
And still end up a traffic cop
Trying hard tonight to choose between
The Chocolate Glaze and Boston Cream
Oh, but you can't be crucified
For the things that you don't dream

He's lost in austerity
In his 40-story tower
Rolling in prosperity
And grateful for his power
He's no maverick, but he sleeps just fine
And he once told me if he said 'no' ten times
He'd be right at least nine

I said, Hey
If Edison had said no
If Jonas Salk had said no
If Debussy had said no
If Jesus Christ had said no
If Willie Mays had said no
If Shakespeare had said no
If Sigmund Freud had said no
I’ll tell you where we’d be
We’d be sick and in the darkness
With no one to inspire us
And nothing on TV
And even less in the fridge
We’d be blaming dad for everything
And not even have our Sundays off to barbeque
But you can’t be crucified
For the things you don’t do

So you might as well put it on the line once in a while
Maybe leave something more than ashes in a pile
You got a brain, you got style
So you might as well put it on the line once in a while

Yeah, well, I forgot my glasses
So it's back to that bar I go
Another chance to tell that girl
She shouldn't let a stranger
Stick a pen into her ass, but no
Instead of being helpful
I realize what I really want to do
Is see the whole tattoo
Trace it with my lips
And erase it with my tongue
Finger paint the remaining Chinese alphabet
With the hot fudge I saved from Boule Bakery
Which took a month to get a reservation
Plus, I didn’t know I had to slip Pierre a fifty
Not to be put next to the bathrooms
With the pictures of the little hen
And rooster on the door
Now I found my glasses
But instead of 'fessing up
I catch her eye and give a stupid halfway smile
And a feeble little nod
And mumble something about an early day
Oh, but you can't be crucified
For the things that you don't say