nobody whistles in cars these days
marking their spots in the parking bays
ending their stops, starting their stays
nobody whistles in cars these days

everyone’s hurrying to shuck the corn
and scatter the leaves on the garden lawn
and kiss the crib where the kid was born
everyone’s hurrying to shuck the corn

you say everything comes to those that wait
the sistine chapel, the garden gate
the jack-in-the-box, the slave-in-the-crate
everything comes to those that wait

I hear somebody’s selling a hand-me-down
a torch for the sun, a bone for the ground
a saddle of meat and a bridal gown
somebody’s selling a hand-me-down

anything different is just the same
we spend the rent and spare the blame
and learn the rules and cheat the game
anything different is just the same

nobody whistles in cars these days
marking their spots in the parking bays
ending their stops, starting their stays
nobody whistles in cars these days