Local H

Taxi-cabs, the sharks of streets, with fins of fire they troll for fares
The blond haired girls that roam in herds and fix you in their golden glares
Hanging out with a new batch and starting out again from scratch
You disconnect from your own crew and keeping up is hard to do
Sell your past for a few grand with paper signed in a false hand
Welcome back, hijack a stool, your favorite bar with souls you know
And forward fast to 4 a.m., a Nilsson disc covered in blow
Yeah, with fins on fire