Letra de 66th Street
Hi, can I help you?I think it was a Sunday, sometime in January I could be wrong and I guess it isn't necessary But I remember that the ground was made of snow And if you went outside, you better take your coat I must have been 19 years old I had a cashier job at a convenience store Workin' the counter makin' minimum dough Sellin' discount smokes to the neighborhood folk I didn't pay much thought to his ski mask It's Minnesota, man, your face'll freeze fastBut I bet that I looked sort of dumb When I first caught sight of his bright orange gun There I am, adrenaline high and Tryin' to decide how I feel about his right hand Is that a god damn, wait a minute, it is a flare gun And guess where he's aimin' it? You probably ain't here to win the lottery (Nope) So you obviously gotta be robbin' meHe nodded his head, so I opened up the till And grabbed the paper bag for the money 'cause I know the drill I handed him the cash and the food stamps He just stood there lookin' all confused and I'm thinkin' "Yo, why the fuck ain't he movin'? Come on crazy white boy, don't do somethin' stupid" That bag is worth maybe two thirty Not enough for you to pull the trigger back and burn meBy now you should be down the street, Ain't you ever seen the way they do this shit on TV? Yeah it was fun but it's done, now get out (Uh, do you want me to lay down on the ground and start countin'?) Before the ski mast even started noddin' I was already on that (One one thousand, Two one thousand) The front door beeped, I heard him leave So I called my boss and the Richfield police Gotta close the shop and lock the doors 'Cause some trailer trash just robbed the storeEh, I, I don't know, maybe 5'10? (What was he wearing?) Skinny, flannel shirt, ski mask, yeah (How much money?) 230, may-maybe 250 dollars? (He threatened you with a flare gun?) Yeah, yeah, it was a flare gun (A flare gun? Like for when, when) A fuckin' flare gun, yeah A flare gun, a ball of fire, yo, a ball of fire comes out (You got robbed with a flare gun, ha ha ha) What, why you laughin'? Let me point a flare gun at youEverybody acted so suspicious I guess the flare gun story seemed fictitious Are you accusing me of petty embezzlement? Don't you see my leftover adrenaline? Bosses and cops can't be my friend Never felt loyalty to either again And to keep it real, the irony didn't set Until a year later when I got fired for stealin' cigarettes. (Gotta light?)