A magic horn…
I gave you the golden horn…
For old times when you had it.
A magic horn.
You got the crummy end of the stick.
Why, joey, why?
Because I’m sad.
Because I’m nothing.
Because I live and die in a crummy one-roomer with dirty walls and cracked pipes.
I don’t even have a girl.
I’ll never be anybody.
Because, half of me is this horn.
I can’t even talk to people, Baron… ‘cause this horn… that’s half my language.
Oh, when I’m drunk, man, when I’m drunk, boy, I don’t see the dirty walls or the cracked pipes.
I don’t know the clock’s going or that the hours are going by.
Because then I’m Gabriel.
…I’m Gabriel with a golden horn.
