Blue Randy Beck

I was driving home in a Dodge Stratus
To the contaminated side of town
Where the shortwave radio playing songs of the century
And a big black cloud of asbestos
Was shadowing my demise

Where were you this morning, Little Randy?
Breakdancing in the food court by yourself
With the honor and your attitude
And your jeans full of prison food
There's a police chalk outline where you last been seen

I was lacerated by my indiscretions
I was sanitized by the pinefresh smell
Of a damsel in stonewashed denim
The way that her sideways ponytail fell

Where were you this evening, Candy Apple Sweetheart?
Playing bass solos up on the sun
With your syntax in the post
And a clothes pin on your nose
And a septic tank full of all the stories you told

Well she called me up on a chainstore pay phone
She invited me up to a condo door
Way down in a neon park
To play lazer tag with her cousin, Rick