Cashed out in the front room Ashes stain his lips Lucifer on the sofa Staring at you You've been counting weekends Never getting dressed Speaking in the third person And tryin' to forget What am I gonna do With your last cigarettes? All your old records All your old cassettes? You hit the corner market Feel the winter sky Looking through the windows As you're passing by Mmm, I'm chasing every thought When I'm walking over water Thinking 'bout what I lost (thinkin' what you got) What am I gonna do with With your last cigarettes? All your old letters? Everybody knows That I'm stuck with all your pictures A box of cigarettes All your old records All your old cassettes Now you're cruising up Lavaca Against the traffic lights And gonna walk all evening, yeah There's no one out tonight Now you're thinking 'bout Dale Watson Thinking 'bout turquoise All along West Avenue While those black birds make their noise Tell me the truth later And just lie tonight For now, I need peace And nothing feels right And I'm stuck with all your pictures A box of cigarettes All your old records Yes, and all your old cassettes