you're in my line of sight

with the vintage music's echo

ringing in the background

'n' i sense, you're a canceled stamp

but i'm a big timer, blue serge

so let me take you to the jazz age

with a fag between my lips

and a bottle of moonshine

hidden in the Struggle Buggy

of my swanky red flivver

that'll make you forget

all those ten cent boxes

spanning the streets at night

under the shady neon light

come, i'll take you for a ride

around the Tin Pan Alley

and we'll ankle on the street

even if we'll be on the lam

and i'll make you feel unreal

because you deserve to be

anything but this blooey

ha! you thought i'm zozzled

but i see right through you

and i carry a torch for you

despite of all that i see

because you were a live wire

and a killjoy stole your smile

which i ought to return back

even if i sound like a weasel

so how about sharing a joe

when sun's about to kiss us

on the couch in my lounge

in front of a rough TV static

while you smile leisurely

when i say 'cash or check?'

because i sound splifficated

but my voice is still copacetic

for this is what love does to us

this is what love does to us

when java holds the effect

that of magical giggle water

and i swear, i didn't drink

but i feel like i'm all ossified

'cause i'm so stuck on you

with no power in my stilts

that they dare walk back

to the same old party crowd

that streeted us at midnight

so why not go on a whoopee

because i don't understand

what moment or time is it

or what era we belong to

for the sweet look of you

makes me wonder verily

that it's not the 21st century

and we're stuck somewhere

amidst 1920s, aren't we?

oh girl, where did we meet?

in the middle of modern epoch

or somewhere in the jazz age?

and are you smiling now

for this is what love does to us?