Tom Waits

Well, the eggs chase the bacon 'round the frying pan
And the whining dog pigeons by the steeple bell rope
And the dogs tipped the garbage pails over last night
And there's always construction work bothering you
In the neighborhood, in the neighborhood, in the neighborhood
Well, Friday's a funeral and Saturday's a bride
Seth's got a pistol on the registers side
And the goddamn delivery trucks they make too much noise
And we don't get our butter delivered no more
In the neighborhood, in the neighborhood, in the neighborhood
Well, Big Mambo's kicking his old grey hound
And the kids can't get ice cream 'cause the market burned down
And the newspaper sleeping bags blow down the lane
And that goddamn flatbed's got me pinned in again
In the neighborhood, in the neighborhood, in the neighborhood
There's a couple Filipino girls giggling by the church
And the window is busted and the landlord ain't home
And Butch joined the army, yeah, that's where he's been
And the jackhammer's digging up the sidewalks again
In the neighborhood, in the neighborhood, in the neighborhood
In the neighborhood, in the neighborhood, in the neighborhood