Pocket full of one dollar bills
City skyline in the rearview mirror
Hands relaxed on the steering wheel
She’s relaxed with the whole damn deal
When I said we could talk it over
What she heard was “It’s really over”
Didn’t think how I drove her
Past the point of no return
She didn’t even cry
Packed her bags got in the car
Left a note laying on the bar
She didn’t realize
How she’d have to compromise
Now she’s dancing for someone else’s eyes
Monday morning finally came
All the faces looked the same
Didn’t know which one to blame
For her fortune or her fame
Told her mamma she spent her time
Making money on assembly line
What her mamma didn’t know was
Twenty dollars for a ten minute show
She didn’t even cry
Packed her bags got in the car
Left a note laying on the bar
She didn't realize
How she’d have to compromise
Now she’s dancing for someone else’s eyes
About JackoRecords
Published Baby Boomer Songwriter. Heavy lyrics and prose and story telling ala Bob Dylan, Tom Petty and Jimmy Webb.
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There are many stories about these times and this life–I like your version and the visuals you provided and the historical setting. I wonder if any of us realize what we have to compromise??!
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You do it every time. I wish I knew how so I could steal some good stuff. The piece had me dancing!
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Fabulous song at the class. The lyrics/poem is what I describe as “raw and real! Not dissimilar to life! Good job!!
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I do like the Mark Knopfler backstory. Your version reminds me of a friend who survived in Honolulu in the 70s as a dance hall girl. Although I don’t think she was a private dancer, she she still calls it a sleazy gig. I agree with Brad’s comments on “dancing for someone else’s eyes.” Very well done.
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That phrase “…dancing for someone else’s eyes” is so evocative, so sad, so pure. I enjoyed the video, too!
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