“All hope abandon, ye who enter here”
said the sign I read that was hanging above her bed.
And the siren’s all wailing
but a man can ignore the signs.
You gotta keep a good eye on the winding road ahead.

And my first sin was a young American girl.

And I spent time beneath the trestles
with the punks and the dimestore saints.
We kept faith and a switchblade tucked beneath my coat.
And I ran with dirty angels
I slept out in the rain.
We were scared and tired and barely seventeen.

And my first sin was the fear that made me old.

And now I walk down by the shipyards
near the place where I was born
saying, “Oh Maria, if you’da known me when…”
But she only smiles by the light on the Navesink Banks
Saying, “Listen baby, I know you now.”

Then she steps into the river
and I just stand by the moon
thinking about a ghost I hear at night.
And she says, “Your first sin was a lie you told yourself.”

Your first sin was a lie you told yourself.