Jessie

From a phone booth in Vegas,
Jessie calls at five a.m.,
to tell me how she's tired
of all of them.
She says, "Baby, I've been thinking
about a trailer by the sea.
We could go to Mexico,
you, the cat, and me.
We'll drink tequila, and look for seashells.
Now, doesn't that sound sweet?"
Oh, Jessie, you always do this
every time I get back on my feet.
Jessie, paint your pictures
about how it's gonna be.
By now I should know better;
your dreams are never free.
But tell me all about our little
trailer by the sea.
Jessie, you can always
sell any dream to me.
Oh, Jessie, you can always
sell any dream to me.
She asks me how the cat's been.
I say, "Moses--he's just fine.
But he used to think about you
all the time.
We finally took your pictures
down off the wall.
Jessie, how do you always seem to
know just when to call?"
She says, "Get your stuff together,
bring Mose, and drive real fast."
And I listen to her promise, "I swear
to God, this time it's gonna last."
Jessie, paint your pictures . . .
Jessie, you can always
sell any dream to me.
I'll love you in the sunshine,
lay you down in the warm white sand.
And who knows? Maybe this time,
things'll turn out just the way you planned.
Jessie, paint your pictures . . .
--Joshua Kadison