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There's gotta be a record of you some place
You gotta be on somebodys books
The lowdown, a picture of your face
Your injured looks

The sacred and profane
The pleasure and the pain
Somewhere your fingerprints remain concrete

You get a shiver in the dark
It's raining in the park, but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie double four time
You feel alright when you hear that music ring

Well now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down