I fell for the inventor’s daughter
When I chased my silver dollar
Down the hill and onto her father’s basement porch

I fell for her blurry eyes
When my tongue was numb and my shoes untied
With her hand held closed in the yellow light
On her father’s basement porch

Down came her brother full of angry words
And a fistful of problems yet to be heard
And he delivered to me all that he had learned
About defending when you’re scared

Away she went tucked into his coat
With her head turned back and her cheeks made rose
As I lay there with my eyes half-closed
On her father’s basement porch

I fell for the inventor’s daughter
With a cold washrag and a bloody collar
And a puffy smile and a head raised taller
Than before I took his swing

I fell for her curious eyes
And her friendly hands left open wide
For me to see what’s been inside
Since my coin first ran away

And she is like a stick layed down
And a white flag torn from a wedding gown
In a dress-up box from a childhood town in her father’s memory

And he is like a bulb made bright
That flickers when you just want it to stay light
Every time that he thinks the night is looking his way

I fell for the beggar’s son
In the puddled porch with his shoes undone
And the silver coin that had made him come
Into the yellow light

So come on, come on, come on into the yellow light...