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  • They're selling postcards of the hanging
    They're painting the passports brown
    The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
    The circus is in town
    Here comes the blind commissioner
    They've got him in a trance
    One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
    The other is in his pants
    And the riot squad they're restless
    They need somewhere to go
    As lady and I look out tonight
    From desolation row
    Cinderella, she seems so easy
    It takes one to know one, she smiles
    And puts her hands into her back pockets
    Bette Davis style
    And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
    "You belong to me I believe"
    And someone turns and says to him
    "My friend you'd better leave"
    And the only sound that's left
    After the ambulances go
    Is Cinderella sweeping up
    On desolation row
    Now the moon is almost hidden
    The stars they're just pretending to hide
    The fortunetelling lady
    Has even taken all her things inside
    All except for Cain and Abel
    And the hunchback of Notre Dame
    Everyone is makin' love
    Or else expecting rain
    And the good Samaritan, he's dressing
    He's getting ready for the show
    He's going to the carnival tonight
    On desolation row
    Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
    For her I feel so afraid
    On her twenty-second birthday
    She already is an old maid
    Now to her, death is quite romantic
    She wears an iron vest
    Her profession is her religion
    Her sin is her lifelessness
    And though her eyes are fixed upon
    Noah's great rainbow
    She spends her time peeking
    Into desolation row
    Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
    With his memories in a trunk
    Passed this way an hour ago
    With his friend, some jealous monk
    Now he looked so immaculately frightful
    As he bummed his cigarette
    Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
    And reciting the alphabet
    You would not think to look at him
    But he was famous long ago
    For playing the electric violin
    On desolation row
    Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
    Locked inside of his leather cup
    But all his ***less patients
    They're trying to blow it up
    Now his nurse, some local loser
    She's in charge of the cyanide hole
    She also keeps the cards that read
    "Have mercy on his soul"
    They all play on the penny whistle
    You can hear them blow
    If you lean your head out far enough
    From desolation row
    Across the street they've nailed the curtains
    They're getting ready for the feast
    The phantom of the opera
    In a perfect image of a priest
    They're spoon feeding Casanova
    To get him to feel more assured
    Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
    After poisoning him with words
    And the phantom shouts to skinny girls
    "Get outta here if you don't know
    Casanova he's just being punished for going
    To desolation row"
    Now at midnight all the agents
    And the superhuman crew
    Come out and round up everyone
    That knows more than they do
    Then they bring them to the factory
    Where the heart attack machine
    Is strapped across their shoulders
    And then the kerosene
    Is brought down from the castles
    By insurance men who go
    Check to see that no one is escaping
    To desolation row
    Praise be to Nero's Neptune
    The Titanic sails at dawn
    And everybody's shouting
    "Which side are you on?"
    And Ezra Pound and T.S. Elliott
    Fighting in the captain's tower
    While Calypso's singers laugh at them
    And fishermen hold flowers
    Between the windows of the sea
    Where lovely mermaids flow
    And nobody has to think too much
    About desolation row
    Yes, I received your letter yesterday
    About the time the door knob broke
    When you asked me how I was doing
    Was that some kind of joke?
    All these people that you mention
    Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
    I had to rearrange their faces
    And give them all another name
    Right now I cannot read too well
    Don't send me no more letters, no
    Not unless you mail them
    From desolation row
  • They're selling postcards of the hanging
    They're painting the passports brown
    The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
    The circus is in town
    Here comes the blind commissioner
    They've got him in a trance
    One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
    The other is in his pants
    And the riot squad they're restless
    They need somewhere to go
    As lady and I look out tonight
    From desolation row
    Cinderella, she seems so easy
    It takes one to know one, she smiles
    And puts her hands into her back pockets
    Bette Davis style
    And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
    "You belong to me I believe"
    And someone turns and says to him
    "My friend you'd better leave"
    And the only sound that's left
    After the ambulances go
    Is Cinderella sweeping up
    On desolation row
    Now the moon is almost hidden
    The stars they're just pretending to hide
    The fortunetelling lady
    Has even taken all her things inside
    All except for Cain and Abel
    And the hunchback of Notre Dame
    Everyone is makin' love
    Or else expecting rain
    And the good Samaritan, he's dressing
    He's getting ready for the show
    He's going to the carnival tonight
    On desolation row
    Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
    For her I feel so afraid
    On her twenty-second birthday
    She already is an old maid
    Now to her, death is quite romantic
    She wears an iron vest
    Her profession is her religion
    Her sin is her lifelessness
    And though her eyes are fixed upon
    Noah's great rainbow
    She spends her time peeking
    Into desolation row
    Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
    With his memories in a trunk
    Passed this way an hour ago
    With his friend, some jealous monk
    Now he looked so immaculately frightful
    As he bummed his cigarette
    Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
    And reciting the alphabet
    You would not think to look at him
    But he was famous long ago
    For playing the electric violin
    On desolation row
    Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
    Locked inside of his leather cup
    But all his ***less patients
    They're trying to blow it up
    Now his nurse, some local loser
    She's in charge of the cyanide hole
    She also keeps the cards that read
    "Have mercy on his soul"
    They all play on the penny whistle
    You can hear them blow
    If you lean your head out far enough
    From desolation row
    Across the street they've nailed the curtains
    They're getting ready for the feast
    The phantom of the opera
    In a perfect image of a priest
    They're spoon feeding Casanova
    To get him to feel more assured
    Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
    After poisoning him with words
    And the phantom shouts to skinny girls
    "Get outta here if you don't know
    Casanova he's just being punished for going
    To desolation row"
    Now at midnight all the agents
    And the superhuman crew
    Come out and round up everyone
    That knows more than they do
    Then they bring them to the factory
    Where the heart attack machine
    Is strapped across their shoulders
    And then the kerosene
    Is brought down from the castles
    By insurance men who go
    Check to see that no one is escaping
    To desolation row
    Praise be to Nero's Neptune
    The Titanic sails at dawn
    And everybody's shouting
    "Which side are you on?"
    And Ezra Pound and T.S. Elliott
    Fighting in the captain's tower
    While Calypso's singers laugh at them
    And fishermen hold flowers
    Between the windows of the sea
    Where lovely mermaids flow
    And nobody has to think too much
    About desolation row
    Yes, I received your letter yesterday
    About the time the door knob broke
    When you asked me how I was doing
    Was that some kind of joke?
    All these people that you mention
    Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
    I had to rearrange their faces
    And give them all another name
    Right now I cannot read too well
    Don't send me no more letters, no
    Not unless you mail them
    From desolation row