| Well they packed up their violin cases? |
| ?
|
| Hopped in a big black studebaker, they were acting pretty scary
|
| No one talked as they synchronized their watches
|
| And they drove past a train station
|
| The train rolled out with a passenger car
|
| Filled with retired millionaires and movie stars
|
| ?? |
| coats
|
| ?? |
| and that would be all she wrote
|
| And the gangsters, cowboys, gypsies, and freewheelers
|
| Sold out their trades to become drug dealers
|
| There aint no money in doing things straight
|
| Your community thanks you, business is good, and nice guys dont get paid
|
| Outside the train window fast as he could ride
|
| Was a kid on a horse with a head full of lies
|
| And the tears of excitement couldnt put out the fire in his eyes
|
| For the house he was riding to burglarize
|
| All through the house they were dancing and singing
|
| An extended family with fiddlers and magicians
|
| A juggler and a chemist whod invent potion
|
| To pacify all the killers and rapist
|
| The chemist died in the burglary and they sold the prescription
|
| For a case of cheap red wine to a traveling salesman
|
| In a three-wheeled jalopy; |
| he bought and sold potions
|
| To the city that looked over the ocean
|
| And he sold the last drop, it was big with the rich kids
|
| And soon the city would be crawling with addicts
|
| And back rooms, dark allies, basements and attics
|
| (when?) a fly is trapped in a spiders web (but a bats got the spider?)
|
| And no one knows whats going on But youve gotta show up for yourself at the end of the day
|
| And nice guys dont get paid
|
| Nice guys dont get paid
|
| Now all the hopeless romantics are wearing white collars
|
| (upstanding assassins?) cleaning filthy dollars
|
| Car-jacking fanatics who kill for religion
|
| In a city full of addicts and color television |