Written by Rickie Lee Jones

Written by Rickie Lee Jones

Written by Rickie Lee Jones

I say this was no game of chicken
You were aiming your best friend
That you wear like a switchblade on a chain around your neck
I think you picked this up in Mexico from your dad
Now its daddy on the booze
And Brando on the ice
Now it’s Dean in the doorway
With one more way he can’t play this scene twice So you drug her down every
drag of this forbidden fit of love
And you told her to stand tall when you
kissed her
But that’s not where you were thinking…
How could a Natalie Wood not get sucked into a scene so custom tucked?
But now look who shows up
In the same place
In this case
I think it’s better
To face it —
We belong together
We belong together

Once Johnny the King made a spit ring
And all the skid kids saw a very, very proud man
And he entwined her in his finger
And she lay there like a baby in his hand
And climb upon the rooftop docks lookin’ out on the cross-town seas
And he wraps his jacket across her shoulders
And he falls and hugs and holds her on his knees
But a sailor just takes a broad down to the dark end of the fair
To turn her into a tattoo
That will whisper
Into the back of Johnny’s black hair
And now Johnny the King walks these streets without her in the rain
Lookin’ for a leather jacket
And a girl who wrote her name forever
A promise that —
We belong together
We belong together

Shall we weigh along these streets
Young lions on the lam?
Are the signs you hid deep in your heart
All left on neon for them?
Who are foolish
Who are victim
Of the sailors and the ducky boys who would
Move into your eyes and lips and
Every tear
That falls down on the neighborhood now
I said “Bird, we just gotta tell them”
And they turn and ignore us
And the only heroes we got left
Are written right before us
And the only angel who sees us now
Watches through each other’s eyes
And I can hear him
In every footstep’s passing sigh
He goes crazy these nights
Watching heartbeats go by…
And they whisper —
We belong together
We belong together.

length: 4:59 minutes
vocals: Rickie Lee Jones
drums: Steve Gadd

Written by Rickie Lee Jones

Written by Rickie Lee Jones & Alfred Johnson

Sal was working at Nyro’s nook in downtown
Selling articles of congress to these people downtown
He was pretty sleazy when I met him
A weasel in a poor boy’s wool

Sal lives in a black vinyl pen in New Jersey
Buys his meat from a whore next door
Wants it rare but he gets it well
A weasel on a short order floor

So, Sal, say good-bye to your mom and your dad
Sal, say good-bye to the barrio
Sal, say good-bye to your buddies and your pals
Angela, Perry and Mario

Kid Sinister with the Bus Stop Blues
A quarter could take you home
A dime could make a dream come true
But a weasel ain’t got a dime for the phone
( Does a weasel got a dime for the phone? )

So, Sal, say good-bye to your mom and your dad
Sal, say good-bye to the barrio
Sal, say good-bye to your buddies and your pals
Angela, Perry and Mario

You dancin’ in the welfare lines, Sal
Actin’ like some jerk-off fool
When we could lay out eatin’ peaches on the beaches
A weasel in a White Boy’s cool
But we’re all in a white boy’s school
(Just like a weasel )

Written by Rickie Lee Jones
Nominated for Best New Song, Grammy® 1980

How come he don’t come and p.l.p. with me
Down at the meter no more?
How come he turn off the TV
And he hang that sign on the door?
We call and we call “How come?” we say
What could make a boy behave this way?

He learn all of the lines, and every time he
don’t stutter when he talk
And it’s true! It’s true! He sure is acquired a
cool and inspired sorta jazz when he walk
Where’s his jacket and his old blue jeans?
If this ain’t healthy is it some kinda clean?

I think that Chuck E’s in love
Chuck E’s in love

I don’t believe what you’re saying to me
This is something I gotta see Is he here?
Look in the poolhall Is he here?
Look in the drugstore Is he here?
No, he don’t come here no more

I’ll tell you what I saw him
He was sittin’ behind us down at the Pantages
And whatever it is that he’s got up his sleeve
I hope it isn’t contagious
What’s her name? Is that her there?
Christ, I think he’s even combed his hair!

Is that her? What’s her name?
Oh, it’s never going to be same.
But that’s not her
I know what’s wrong–
Chuck E’s in love with the little girl who’s singing this song

Chuck E’s in love
Chuck E’s in love with me.

Written by Rickie Lee Jones / Pascal Nabert-Meyer

Written by Rickie Lee Jones, Pascal Naber-Meyer and Sal Bernardi

Written by Rickie Lee Jones

Written by Fred Marsden / Gerrard Marsden / Leo Maguire / Les Chadwick

Written by Rickie Lee Jones / Pascal Nabert-Meyer

Written by Leon René in the 1940s.