New York Times Book Review Songtext

Grady's Bar is no saloon,
Drinking on a Monday afternoon,
The air has its unique pungent smell,
Unique to the Seneca Hotel,
I close my windows every night,
But nothing can keep out the light,
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It nags me awake,
It keeps me pinned right in my place,
It keeps me pinned right in my place

I wish I was an international sensation,
I'd blame these words on a bad translation,
Translating Edgar Alan Poe,
Is it pure? I'll never know,
The sky is full of lots of things,
Evil dreams and the coming rain,
Rain must be true,
I read it in a New York Times book review,
I read it in a New York Times book review

So that's what you get when you open your eyes,
We'll rendezvous and hope to die,
Drink our toasts to last goodbyes,
And dream of a long-lost lover's thighs,
The charlatans feign indignation,
I'll drink gin and tonic and heart medication,
Don't worry about a thing,
Don't be afraid of anything,
Don't be afraid of anything

J Church New York Times Book Review songtext