Feeling like Detroit (In the middle of New Orleans)
Some folks come for the music
Some come for the sights
Some just come to be anywhere
But home on a Saturday night
And the music races like a runaway train
Crashing through my fevered brain
There's a thousand different faces
But the smiles all look the same
There's animated ladies
With pretty, painted faces
Looking as real as any picture
In a magazine
As I wander through
That barroom scene
I'm a ghost who's lost its place
Feeling like Detroit in the
Middle of New Orleans
Conversation is drowning
As the amps roar like the sea
And what you hear is as heavy
As one-liners ever could be
If they close this joint tomorrow
I'll open one in its place
And call it the Cosmic Robot
And put a big grin on its face
There'll be animated ladies
With pretty, painted faces
Looking as real as any picture
In a magazine
As you wander through
That barroom scene
You're a ghost who's lost its place
Feeling like Detroit in the
Middle of New Orleans
