FOREIGN AFFAIRS

Music by Joseph Kosma

Music and Lyrics by Norah Jones & Mike Martin

I'll pretend my heart's not on fire
If you steal my true love's name
Broke down subway in this city of spires
Tape your picture over his in the frame

We'll imagine we're sleeping revolvers
Shotgun wedding in a strange SoHo
Our chambers hold silvery collars
Gun down werewolves wherever we go
We gun down werewolves wherever we go

Midnight phone calls in the back of a Mustang
Creased white pages torn right from the spine
Kissed my neck with a crooked, cracked fang
You always hoped one day you'd be mine

Threw our fathers on funeral pyres
I'm not sure that we were playing a game
Busted gasket in a field full of liars
No one noticed we set five boroughs aflame
No one noticed we set five boroughs aflame

Young blood
Young bone
Old ghosts
Go home

Band of gold with a diamond implied
You wrote letters that you never sent
I made promises I'll always deny
Now we'll never know what the other meant

Watch is ticking like a heartbeat gone berserk
Lost the chance to wind the key
Roosters are nothing but clucking clockwork
Our fears are only what we tell them to be
Our fears are only what we tell them to be

Drown the last of our matches
Burn the rest of each other
You were strongest when I ached for breath
Through the thick of smoke we'll finally smother

Young blood
Young bone
Old ghosts
Go home

Music and Lyrics by Tom Waits


liar liar with your pants on fire,
white spades hangin' on the telephone
wire, gamblers reevaluate along the dotted line,
you'll never recognize
yourself on heartattack and vine.

doctor lawyer beggar man thief,
philly joe remarkable looks on in disbelief,
if you want a taste of madness,
you'll have to wait in line, you'll probably
see someone you know on heartattack and vine.

boney's high on china white, shorty found a punk,
don't you know there ain't
no devil, there's just god when he's drunk,
well this stuff will probably kill
you, let's do another line,
what you say you meet me down
on heartattack and vine.

better off in iowa against your scrambled eggs,
than crawling down cahuenga on a broken pair of legs,
you'll find your ignorance is blissful every goddamn time,
your're waitin' for the rtd
on heartattack and vine.

Music by Wayne Shorter

Wayne Shorter - tenor sax
McCoy Tyner - piano
Reggie Workman - bass
Elvin Jones - drums