Hey! What? Hey!
Tom Waits Lyrics

Small change got rained on with his own thirty-eight,
A poor man was killed and robbed of his thirty-eight revolver and the small change he carried.

And nobody flinched down by the arcade
Nobody reacted to the sound of the gunshot in the arcade.

And the marquees weren't weeping, they went stark-raving mad,
The neon lights and signs went wild, in a state of chaos that reflected the chaos of the situation.

And the cabbies were the only ones that really had it made
The taxi drivers were the only ones benefiting from the scene, as there were more fares to be had due to the commotion.

And his cold trousers were twisted, and the sirens high and shrill,
The dead man's clothes were disarrayed and the sirens blared loudly.

And crumpled in his fist was a five-dollar bill
The small change that the man carried was in his hand, crumpled and useless now that he was dead.

And the naked mannequins with their Cheshire grins,
The mannequins with their permanent and creepy smirks were watching the scene from the store windows.

And the raconteurs and roustabouts said "buddy, come on in, 'cause
The storytellers and carnival workers invited onlookers to join in the spectacle, almost as if it were a show.

Cause the dreams ain't broken down here now, they're walking with a limp
Even though the situation was grim, the people in the area were still hopeful and persevering.

And the burglar alarm's been disconnected,
The alarm system had been tampered with, likely by the criminals who killed the poor man.

And the newsmen start to rattle
Reporters began to clamor for information and interviews with witnesses or officials.

And the cops are telling jokes about some whorehouse in Seattle
Police officers were making inappropriate and unprofessional jokes, perhaps to lighten the mood amidst such a dark event.

And the fire hydrants plead the fifth amendment
The fire hydrants, inanimate objects, seem to remain silent and unhelpful in the situation.

And the furniture is bargains galore
Even in the midst of chaos, bargain sales on furniture are still being advertised and advertised as usual.

But the blood is by the jukebox on an old linoleum floor
The scene of the crime remains, with blood on the floor by the jukebox, a testimony to the violence that occurred.

And what a hot rain on forty-second street,
Despite the chaos, the weather remains hot and humid on the street.

And now the umbrellas ain't got a chance
The rain is so heavy that even umbrellas cannot protect people from getting wet.

And the newsboy's a lunatic with stains on his pants, 'cause
The newspaper boy is acting crazy, perhaps due to excitement or fear, and has likely wet his pants.

Cause small change got rained on with his own thirty-eight
Again, the chorus repeats the central idea that the poor man was killed and robbed of his revolver and small change.

And no one's gone over to close his eyes
No one has come forward to attend to the dead man's body or even properly close his eyes.

And there's a racing form in his pocket,
An indication that the man might have been a gambler or interested in horse racing.

Circled "blue boots" in the third
More information about the racing form, perhaps with the man having circled a winning horse or bet.

And the cashier at the clothing store didn't say a word
Even though someone was killed right outside, the nearby cashier didn't comment or react to the situation.

As the siren tears the night in half, and someone lost his wallet
The sound of the police siren splits through the night, and someone may have been robbed in addition to the man being killed.

Well, a surveillance of assailance, it that's what you want to call it
The situation can be described as a surveillance of assailance, meaning a violent crime captured through surveillance.

And the whores hike up their skirts and fish for drug-store prophylactics
Prostitutes in the area are preparing for business again despite the violent event.

With their mouths cut just like razor blades and their eyes are like stilettos
The prostitutes are described in violent terms, with sharp and dangerous imagery used to describe them.

And her radiator's steaming and her teeth are in a wreck, and nah,
A woman, possibly a prostitute, has car troubles and is missing teeth.

She won't let you kiss her, but what the hell do you expect?
Despite her issues, the woman still wants to do business and doesn't want to be treated kindly.

And the gypsies are tragic and if you want to buy perfume,
Gypsy women are attempting to sell perfume in the area.

Well, they'll bark you down like carneys, sell you Christmas cards in June, but
They are persistent and will haggle with you like carnival workers, even selling Christmas cards in the wrong season.

And his headstone's a gumball machine,
The poor man's grave or memorial is cheap and insignificant, marked by a gumball machine.

No more chewing gum or baseball cards or overcoats or dreams
The man who was killed can no longer enjoy anything in life, including the simple pleasures or his own hopes and ambitions.

Someone's hosing down the sidewalk, and he's only in his teens, 'cause
A young person is cleaning up the scene, a sad reminder of how young he is and what he's being exposed to.

'cause small change got rained on with his own thirty-eight
The chorus repeats one more time, cementing the tragic event in the listener's mind.

And a fistful of dollars can't change that,
Even with money, one cannot change the violent and tragic nature of the world.

And someone copped his watch fob, and someone got his ring
More evidence that the dead man was robbed in addition to being killed.

And the newsboy got his porkpie Stetson hat
Even the newspaper boy took something from the scene, likely the dead man's hat.

And the tuberculosis old men at the nelson wheeze and cough
Even old and sickly men are present and suffering, making the situation even more tragic.

And someone will head south until this whole thing cools off, 'cause
Someone will likely flee the scene until the situation has calmed down and is less dangerous.

Cause small change got rained on with his own thirty-eight, yeah,
The final repeat of the chorus, again emphasizing the tragedy of the events that unfolded.

Small change got rained on with his own thirty-eight
The refrain repeats one final time, driving the tragedy of the event home and committing it to memory.