Atmosphere - 66th Street lyrics

Hi, can I help you?

I think it was a Sunday, sometime in January
I could be wrong and I
Guess it isn't necessary
But I remember that the ground
Was made of snow and if you went outside
You better take your coat
I must have been nineteen years old
I had a cashier job at a convenience store
Working the counter making minimum dough
Selling discount smokes to
The neighbourhood folk
I didn't pay much thought to his ski mask
It's Minnesota man
Your face will freeze fast
But I bet that I looked sorta dumb
When I first caught sight of
His bright orange gun
There I am, adrenaline high and
Tryin to decide how I feel
About his right hand
Is that a goddamn? Wait a minute
It is a flare gun and
Guess where he's aiming it
"You probably ain't here to
Win the lottery" ("nope")
"So you obviously gotta be robbin me"
He nodded his head so opened up the till
And grabbed a paper bag for the
Money cause I know the drill
I handed him the cash and the food stamps
He just stood there looking all confused and
I'm thinking "Yo
Why the fuck ain't he movin?"
C'mon crazy white boy
Don't do somethin stupid
That bag is worth maybe two-thirty
Not enough for you to pull the
Trigger back and burn me
By now you should be down the street
Ain't you never seen the way they
Do this shit on TV?
Yeah it was fun but it's done, now get out
"Ah, do you want me lay down on
The ground and start countin crops?"
Before the ski way even started noddin
I was already on that, one one-thousand
Two one-thousand
The front door beeped, I heard him leave
So I called my boss and the Richfield police
Gotta close the shop and lock the doors
Cause some trailer trash just
Robbed the store

Slug: Uh i don’t know maybe 5"10?
Officer: What was he wearing?
Slug: Skinny, flannel shirt… a ski mask, yeah
Officer: How much money?
Slug: 230, maybe 250 dollars?
Officer: You said that he robbed
You with a flare gun?
Slug: yeah, yeah it was a flare gun
Officer: like a a
Slug: yeah it was a fucking flare gun
Officer: Like when your car breaks down?
Slug: Dog, it was a fucking flare gun… c’mon
Officers laughing
Slug: Why you laughing, no body pointed
A flare gun at you, motherfucker

Everybody acted so suspicious
I guess the flare gun story seemed fictitious
Are you accusing me of petty embezzlement?
Don't you see my left over adrenaline?
Bosses and cops can't be my friend
Never felt loyalty to either again
And to keep it real, the irony didn't set
Until a year later when I
Got fired for stealing cigarettes