I don't know much about Jersey or Jersey girls, but I'd like to be one if Tom Waits sang this song to me. And we stayed up at old diners by crumbling docks till sunrise. And, then, mid-day, there was that opulent scruffy architecture of thick sun in our unmade bed in some lowdown, but clean, outta the way room.
Share a fantasy form a song/a time/a mood with me, won't you? Call me.