On the Bus Mall The Decemberists

In matching blue raincoats
Our shoes were our show boats
We kicked around
From stairway to station
We made a sensation
With the gadabout crowd
And oh, what a bargain
We're two easy targets
For the old men at the off-tracks
Who've paid in palaver
And crumpled old dollars
Which we squirreled away
In our rat trap hotel by the freeway
And we slept-in Sundays

Your parents were anxious
Your cool was contagious
At the old school
You left without leaving
A note for your grieving
Sweet mother, while
Your brother was so cruel
And here in the alleys
Your spirits were rallied
As you learned quick to make a fast buck
In bathrooms and barrooms
On dumpsters and heirlooms
We bit our tongues
Sucked our lips into our lungs
'til we were falling
Such was our calling