And the radio’s gone off the air

I saw Tom Waits on Letterman one time. He told a story about his doctor saying; “If you don’t stop singing like that you’re gonna end up like Frank Sinatra”. Waits replied; “You mean I’ll be rich and powerful?”

On the way home tonight I opened all the windows and turned off the radio. A Tom Waits song started playing in my head. Sometimes the radio in your head is better than the real radio.

I got home, walked in the door and the house smelled like stale cigarettes.

Strange crowd tonight. Seemed like there was a lot of hostility being kept under wraps. As I was leaving, there was a guy on the dance floor kneeling, playing two Djembe drums. I guess he had them in his car or something. Just how he rolls.

Early summer lake crowd. Prop jet set.

Well these diamonds on my windshield
And these tears from heaven
Well I’m pulling into town on the Interstate
I got a steel train in the rain
And the wind bites my cheek through the wing
And it’s these late nights and this freeway flying
It always makes me sing

There’s a Duster tryin’ to change my tune
He’s pulling up fast on the right
Rolling restlessly by a twenty-four hour moon

And a Wisconsin hiker with a cue-ball head
He’s wishing he was home in a Wiscosin bed
But there’s fifteen feet of snow in the East
Colder then a welldigger’s ass
And it’s colder than a welldigger’s ass

Oceanside it ends the ride with San Clemente coming up
Those Sunday desperadoes slip by and cruise with a dry back
And the orange drive-in the neon billin’
And the theatre’s fillin’ to the brim
With ‘Slave Girls’ and ‘Hot Spurs’ an’ ‘Bucket Full Of Sin’

Metropolitan area with interchange and connections
Fly-by-nights from Riverside
And out of state plates running a little late

But the sailors jockey for the fast lane
So 101 don’t miss it
There’s rolling hills and concrete fields
And the broken line’s on your mind

The eights go east and the fives go north
And the merging nexus back and forth
You see your sign, cross the line, signalling with a blink

And the radio’s gone off the air
Gives you time to think
And you hear the rumble
As you fumble for a cigarette
And blazing through this midnight jungle
Remember someone that you met
And one more block; the engine talks
Whispers ‘home at last’
It whispers ‘home at last’
Whispers ‘home at last’
It whispers ‘home at last’
Whispers ‘home at last’

And there are diamonds on my windshield
And these tears from heaven
Well I’m pulling into town on the Interstate
I got me a steel train in the rain
And the wind bites my cheek through the wing
Late nights and freeway flying
Always makes me sing
It always makes me sing

“Diamonds On My Windshield” by Tom Waits