Walter Becker - This Is My Building

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On a so-so day with the best among us Sellin' short and cracking wise And the also-ran's going belly-up bust With the dollar signs in their eyes Look at God's good fella in a push position Drawin' dead on an inside straight Trading three martini, lunches, and lupo For a South Beach Diet plate I love my job here Hope I don't blow it This is the good life You'd never know it Now I hit the street on the blazin' backend Of a drop-dead margin call Where I take my chances with the black car bandit With the deep Punjabi drawl Goin' zoom uptown, hurry up, slow down ’Til the brakes begin to smoke And my body's broken like the tired punchline Of a bad cab driver joke God bless you, Chandela Singh Thanks for next to nothing Smooth ride notwithstanding All the way, all the way, all the way, all the way home This is my building I stake my claim here Look on the mailbox You can read my middle name here This is my building This is no trash talk This is me standing On my chunk of God's own sidewalk So, I settle on down with my brandy snifter And my beak packed full of cake With the Knicks game over and I guess it's time For my poontang pop-porn break So, I swallow my pride and I dial the number Which has never failed up ’til now And the girl on duty says, "I'm pleased to please you If you'll only tell me how" My soul's been broken My skills all rusty Who's young and curious Sleek, blonde, and busty And so, a half hour later when the door swings open And she's framed in golden light With a smile on her lips and a song in her heart And a cash-driven appetite As I whisk her bedward in my classic seven And my prospects start to float And I tell myself, "Ain't it lucky, buddy That your old man caught the boat" Good evening, star eyes Your dream has come true Please let me rock you All the way, all the way, all the way, all the way home Well, this is my buildin' You're very new here There's only one thing for a monkey girl to do here This is my building This is no freak thing This is no jokey play-on-word or tongue-in-cheek thing My heart was leaking like a sieve Turns out I had one more bang to give Hallelujah, honeychile, big daddy's gonna live Ever and ever and ever and ever and more Well, this is my building Can't be improved on So hows about you make like a tree And get a move on This is a real deal This is no fake out This is the eight p.m. at God's own bloody steakhouse This is my building, baby Fo weal
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