Tom Waits

Mr. Henry staggers home when the evening's done

He's as poor as a church mouse, high on the Meyer's rum

Tuggin' at his shirttail, jinglin' his church key

Chewin' on a toothpick, on another binge

Tramplin' the rosebush, whistlin' to himself

Now don't wake up the neighbors, spittin' on the hinge
Rattlin' the milk bottles and trippin' on a skate

Hidin' from the newsboy
before it's too late

The screen door's open, don't make no noise in the kitchen

Got no excuse for a cold gray wife that starts bitchin'

That the no good bum is at it again

After she's given him all the best years of her life

He'll tell her he was celebrating Savage's divorce

Played a hunch out at Yonkers, you can never trust a horse

And thrown in jail, and swore he'd never do these things again

He's got an alibi,
but never tells her
where he's been

"Henry!"

"Henry!"