From a phone booth in Vegas, Sylvie calls at five am,
to tell me how she's tired, of all of them.
She says, "Baby I've been thinkin' 'bout a trailer by the sea.
We could goto Mexico, you, the cat, and me.
We'll drink Taquilla, and look for seashells, now doesn't that sound sweet?"
Oh Sylvie, you always do this, everytime I get back on my feet.

Oh Sylvie, paint you pictures, 'bout how it's gonna be.
By now I should know better, your dreams are never free.
But tell me all about, our little trailer by the sea.
Oh Sylvie, you can always sell any dream to me.
Oh Sylvie, you can always sell any dream to me.

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