[Verse 1]
He said, Lemme guess, kid: The roses were red and her eyelids were blue.
They're all a soft pink LaBrea, but a sweeter extinction ya never knew.
Then what? She left or you let her push you away?--No, she wouldn't make it so clear.
Yeah, the first drink's on me. You can stay so long's you know you don't belong in here.

[Chorus]
With these nitehawks beneath the chameleon moon,
Singing songs of the old salts around the rim of the wound.
Mostly it's just the one tune:
How'd it get too late?
How'd it get too late?
How'd it get too late so soon?

[Verse 2]
Around here, they get so brimmed with empty that the whiskey won't take.
You'll be spilling your black guts and butt-ends on some local piece of angel cake.
Y'see that mirror there up above my bar? It has never once pretended.
You could take a good long look, kid; I wouldn't recommend it.

[Chorus]
Just might see a nitehawk beneath the chameleon moon,
Singing songs of the old salts around the rim of the wound.
Mostly it's just the one tune:
How'd it get too late?
How'd it get too late?
How'd it get too late so soon?
[Verse 3]
I doubt a single wall of this club could stand
If it wasn't stuccoed up with these stickers of these long-defunct pop-punk bands.
And there's little doubt whether I would be here
If not for these three chords; you, my dear;

[Chorus]
And that nitehawk beneath the chameleon moon
Who taught me all these old salts around the rim of the wound
Could only teach me the one tune:
How it gets too late,
How it gets too late,
How it gets too late so soon.
How it gets too late,
Kid, this is how it gets too late,
How it gets too late so soon.

[Coda]
The roses were red for a while,
And her eyelids were blue...