(Warren Zevon)

How're you going to make your way in the world

When you weren't cut out for working

When your fingers are slender and frail

How're you going to get around

In this sleazy bedroom town

If you don't put yourself up for sale



Where will you go with your scarves and your miracles

Who's gonna know who you are

Drugs and wine and flattering light

You must try it again till you get it right

Maybe you'll end up with someone different every night



All these people with no home to go home to

They'd all like to spend the night with you

Maybe I would, too



But tell me

How're you going to make your way in the world, woman

When you weren't cut out for working

And you just can't concentrate

And you always show up late



You said you were an actress

Yes, I believe you are

I thought you'd be a star

So I drank up all the money,

Yes, I drank up all the money,

With these phonies in this Hollywood bar,

These friends of mine in this Hollywood bar



Loneliness and frustration

We both came down with an acute case

And when the lights came up at two

I caught a glimpse of you

And your face looked like something

Death brought with him in his suitcase



Your pretty face

It looked so wasted

Another pretty face

Devastated

The French Inhaler

He stamped and mailed her

"So long, Norman"

She said, "So long, Norman"