Well I have been living
on the edge of giving
for quite some time

Still in the taverns
and the caverns of the lonely
each and every day
another dreamer dies


Some folks live in shadows
of what they were back when

Some folks live
to live again

In a dust bin in a closet
she saves her pretty clothes

In the back room of a tavern
she powders her petty nose

Time marks looks
as they go




Well there is a dust bin in her closet
Where she sweeps up all her lies
In the minds to the moment
She empties it and cries

There is the kid down at the apartment
Takes him for a ride
Leaves his heart broken
Takes everything including his pride

There is a dust bin biding its time
It has been sleeping
In a corner of a tangled mind
Drowned once or twice in sweet wine

Come hear the lady
As she sings one last line
A tribute to the dust bin
And the closet filled with lies


So all your rounders and midnight sounders
pick up your hearts and give it a try
for in her dust bin you find pleasure
but when she is done with you
you cry lord you cry