Tear it down in double quick time
To get the eighth truck shifted 'bout midnight
The locker rooms are empty but the [Strobo Tickers?][strobe boats?]
still spin with their pitching lights
And someone with a yellow pass
Gives out precise directions as to where and when
And here am I with a drumstick,
While young girls set to rendezvous, and be recognized again
Tomorrow is an off-day,
Be in Baltimore by Thursday is the only law.
There's a suite down at the hotel
Reserved for making merry with connecting doors.
The lighting man's already improvised a bar,
And printed invitations to the ball.
Off duty cops line corridors wearing Tull [two?] T-shirts proudly
on the band's [...] wall
Crew nights, no flashlights or folding knives,
Best boots and road suits and nine lives.
Feeling that it might be wrong to
Temporarily belong to the P.A. man [men?]
Some angel from the midwest is regretting being
Undressed with no suntan
His polaroid is snapping
The head carpenter is rapping on
The gates of dawn
Sitting lonely with a warm beer
The girl with dental braces wishes that she hadn't gone.
Crew nights, no bar fights or READERS' wives
Thin walls and late [blade?] calls and nine lives.
[Ken Stitzel writes: Still no clue on the first line, but I think
``late calls'' is definitely correct for the second line. It makes
sense from a stagehand terminology perspective. I know that it
sounds like there's a ``b'' sound in there, but I think it's just a
minor flaw in Ian's diction. (It's really tough to sing clearly,
especially in rock music.)]
Crew nights, no flashlights or folding knives,
Best boots and road suits and nine lives.
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