Squeaky Fingers

Like it's a dream and there's a moon, and a tune
A shower in a motel room
And through the steam and in my ear, I can hear
Squeaky fingers on the mirror

Beyond the door, out in the lot, the night is hot
The kids are giving what they got
And is it me, or is it fey when I say
It reminds me of another day?

Out in the road, across the town, out and down
Where they disappear without a sound
Into the hole from whence they came, without a name
Giving and getting joy and pain

And into pants, then into boots and business suits
To fill them out while they commute
Or to remain in tricked-out cars and country bars
County fairs and church bazaars, stay hard!

Like it's a dream in motion slow and they all know
I hear them come and watch them go
And as the steam begins to clear, I face the mirror
The evidence has disappeared

Into the hole from whence it came, still unnamed
Like tomorrow's town is just the same
Into the hole from whence I came, still unnamed
Like tomorrow's town is just the same, unnamed