One in the a.m

Another one from the illustriously fecund Whack era, buffed up in ’96 and arriving on one of those DAT cassettes w/ a Maui postmark.

It’s a fun one; it lopes along, lulling you all LouReedlike, trance-y, but then … O — that chorus!

He never fails to surprise; ever a master of the delightful juxtaposition.

That’s my thesis.

Happy birthday, dear Walter.

movie: Matt Kerns

One in the a.m.

Walter Becker, © 1996/2019

One in the a.m. on the coldest night of the year Trucking down Lexington blinking back frozen tears Thinking on the way it was the night you finally disappeared There are heartaches that don't quit, girl in my life you are it

You come up fast gliding past a night where not much mattered at all Dead end kids on the skids burning up and off the wall

Psychedelic rhythm drops the DJ's pulling out the stops Eyes locked up across the floor I followed you on out the door

On the sidewalk standing there snowflakes nestling in your hair I seen the cruel wind stole your light lucky I come out tonight

Maybe you'd like to go somewhere you don't know you don't care

Girl you're going to need a ride don't you know it's cold outside

Little pieces little pieces Mighty stabs and quick releases

All that's left is little pieces

Little pieces tiny pieces

That's what I say that's my thesis

Picking up on little pieces

There are things I don't know still and other things I never will Like for instance where you are did you get a good price for my guitar

Was that a snarl or was that a smile when I surprised you doggy style For the money for the fun you can't tell me stony one

Your sparkling eyes the night we met the way you smoked that cigarette

Your doomed angelic semi-smile Mona Lisa in the sundries aisle Candles and the Warhol prints your indestructible innocence

Golden days and then the rest the worst as slammin’ as the best

Zero Zero Fahrenheit baby it's a bitter night

Little pieces little pieces Every night the count increases

What we got here is little pieces

Little pieces tiny pieces

Taking off on random breezes

All that's left is little pieces

Crack of dawn wallet gone head feels like it weighs a ton Guess you could have slipped away most anytime in the last two days

Records strewn across the floor you didn't even shut the door You're still a diamond in my eyes counterfeit or otherwise