Club Girl Terrain

[lyrics that I'm unsure of are bracketed]

She's entertaining when complaining about her life;
a picture as that hipster rich guy's compellingly neurotic wife.
But until they meet, she's [in the street] with the monkey boys,
scream in a punk rock band with vintage guitar toys

Phone numbers on match books and the stamps upon her wrist,
and a memory of a bad 4 day affair
with a drummer who wore essence of Al's bar cologne
and slept all night in chairs.
You thought he looked cute and beyond blame,
stranded on the club girl's terrain.

Another pill then drink your fill of the empty night.
I know it kills you to put panties on this pointless socialite.
But when we get dentures and adventures are behind us,
the private invectives are all paid off to never find us.

Phone numbers on match books and the stamps upon your wrist,
and the memory of a bad 6 day affair.
And in our glove compartment there is always
a fresh change of underwear.
Venus of the wandering insane.
stranded on the club girl's terrain.

Smoke, drink, and makeup.
She said it tore her face up.
Knock down the door you've had your foot in.
She said, "This is the only light that I look good in."

Constantly changing, rearranging overnight.
Taking the magazines too seriously, as if they were always right.
Keeping it unreal till there's no feel left at all.
Go back to what we do best iff we drop the ball.

Phone numbers on match books and the stamps upon your wrist,
and the memory of a bad 6 day affair.
And in my mind you always will be sitting on the sofa unaware
of how you put your genius on a plane,
left it holding bags out in the rain,
the ghostly homeless children of your brain,
stranded on the club girl's terrain.

She's entertaining when complaining about her life.