...This Town...

That Charlie Sedarka was a-playing the piano like he was pawing a dirty book
 He bit a hole in his big bottom lip and gave his very best little boy look
 It was a song with a topical verse which I'm afraid he then proceeded to sing
 Something about the moody doomed love of the Fish-Finger King
 You're nobody in this town
 You're nobody in this crowd
 You're nobody 'til everybody in this town
 Knows you're poison
 Got your number
 Knows you must be avoided
 You're nobody 'til everybody in this town
 Thinks you're a bastard
 Mr. Getgood moved up to Self-Made Man Row although he swears that he's the salt of the earth
 He's so proud of the "kick-me-hard" sign that they hung on his back at birth
 He said, "I appreciate beauty, if I have one, then it is my fault
 Beauty is on my pillow, beauty is there in my vault"
 You're nobody in this town
 You're nobody in this crowd
 You're nobody 'til everybody in this town
 Knows you're poison
 Got your number
 Knows you must be avoided
 You're nobody 'til everybody in this town
 Thinks you're a bastard
 The girl with the eternity rock
 Went down on her bookie to buy some stock
 Now all her signs in the shopping arcades say
 "The corporation thief is The New Jesse James"
 Her clothes and her attention were scant
 Her eyes were everywhere, her eyes were like absinthe
 The little green figures that dance on his screen
 Say everything you want to hear and nothing they mean
 They made love while she was changing her dress
 She wiped him off she wiped him out and then she made him confess
 A little amused by the belief in her power
 You must remember this it was the fetish of the hour
 You're nobody in this town
 You're nobody in this crowd
 You're nobody 'til everybody in this town
 Knows you're poison
 Got your number
 Knows it must be avoided
 You're nobody 'til everybody in this town
 Thinks you're a bastard