it was september in the 70s three of us flying in two seats holding the statues of sandalwood the airport is filled with the neighborhood in the back of an old white ambassador you turn a deaf ear to your father he gave you a grand from the black market it stayed in the glove you would not take it so why the words on napkins for no one to read it s never been black or white or what we thought it would be you carry the cases she carries me tell the eight dollar story again tell the eight dollar story again an officer in blue he welcomed you gave you the key to your living room you took up the last carry on and laid out on jackets on the floor so why the words on napkins for no one to read it s never been black or white or what we thought it would be you carry the cases she carries me tell the eight dollar story again tell the eight dollar story again can we go back to the new haven green two of you turning into three we ll read all the letters you never sent and make the old places new again so why the words on napkins for no one to read it s never been black or white or what we thought it would be you carry the cases she carries me tell the eight dollar story tell the eight dollar story tell me the story again