text: Hey Charlie, Im pregnant and living on 9th Street
  Right above a dirty bookstore off Euclid Avenue
  And I stopped takin dope, and I quit drinkin whiskey
  And my old man plays the trombone and works out at the track
  He says that he loves me even though its not his baby
  He says that hell raise him up like he would his own son
  And he gave me a ring that was worn by his mother
  And he takes me out dancin every Saturday night
  And hey Charlie, I think about you every time I pass a fillin station
  On account of all the grease you used to wear in your hair
  And I still have that record of Little Anthony and the Imperials
  But someone stole my record player--now, how do you like that?
  Hey Charlie, I almost went crazy after Mario got busted
  I went back to Omaha to live with my folks
  But everyone I used to know was either dead or in prison
  So I came back to Minneapolis, this time I think Im gonna stay
  Hey Charlie, I think Im happy for the first time since my accident
  I wish I had all the money we used to spend on dope
  Id buy me a used car lot, and I wouldnt sell any of em
  Id just drive a different car every day, dependin on how I feel
  Hey Charlie, for chrissakes, if you want to know the truth of it
  I dont have a husband, he dont play the trombone
  I need to borrow money to pay this lawyer, and Charlie, hey
  Ill be eligible for parole come Valentines day