Miss Annie Edwards, no sense of direction, in her brownstone holding her record collection, but it didn't mean a thing. She never was listening. With her skirts to high and her head in the sky, always waiting outside for a different guy, sometimes two times a night. She said she did three if it was set up right. So Annie put on that white dress, somebody's bound to talk to you. You can talk for a while, later on you won't be talking at all. Her date was a drag and the party's a dive, but you can brag about some out of print 45's, and the worst thing that happens is your gonna get a ride tonight. She giggled at boys, guitar in her hand. I caught a few shows with her and her band but they weren't very good. It was kind of understood that her and her friends didn't make the connection that they should of listened more to her record collect. Broke up in half a year. Did anybody care that they were even here? With her shoulders back and her shirt too tight, with her lips too red and her teeth too bright, opens up her mouth and Annie's gonna get in a fight. A couple bad scenes left some tears in her jeans, but a couple cups of coffee put her back on the street. She's got a mind like a hammer and she's proving it again tonight. A post card reads as if it seems there's a girl named Annie in the Philippines who's complaining it's too hot. She still gets everyone to do whatever she wants. Well the place is a hole, but she's got a new goal. Annie Edwards wants to move to the North Pole where the sun shines all the time. She thinks thatís the way that they cut down on crime, but the sun will set on Annie Edwards. She doesn't remember anything. The sun will set on Annie Edwards. She never was listening