| Very old friend
|
| Came by today
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| As he was telling everyone in town
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| Of all the love that he’d just found
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| And marie’s the name (of his latest flame)
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| Talked and talked
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| And i heard him say
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| That she had the longest blackest hair
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| Prettiest green eyes anywhere
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| And marie’s the name (of his latest flame)
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| The last night of the fair
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| By the big wheel generator
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| A boy is stabbed
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| His money is grabbed
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| And the air hangs heavy like a dulling wine
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| She is famous
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| She is funny
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| An engagement ring
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| Doesn’t mean a thing
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| To a mind consumed by brass (money), oh
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| The last night of the fair
|
| From a seat on a whirling waltzer
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| Her skirt ascends for a watching eye
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| It’s a hideous trait (on her mother’s side)
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| From a seat on a whirling waltzer
|
| Her skirt ascends for a watching eye
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| A hideous trait (on her mother’s side)
|
| Then someone falls in love
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| Someone’s beaten up
|
| Someone’s beaten up
|
| And the senses being dulled are mine
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| And someone falls in love
|
| Someone’s beaten up
|
| And the senses being dulled are mine
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| This is the last night of the fair
|
| And the grease in the hair
|
| Of a speedway operator
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| Is all a tremulous heart requires
|
| A schoolgirl is denied
|
| She said: «how quickly would i die
|
| If i jumped from the top of the parachutes ?»
|
| This is the last night of the fair
|
| And the grease in the hair
|
| Of a speedway operator
|
| Is all a tremulous heart requires
|
| A schoolgirl is denied
|
| She said: «how quickly would i die
|
| Oh, if i jumped from the top of the parachutes ?»
|
| …oh, walk home alone
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| I might walk home alone
|
| But my faith in love is still devout
|
| I might walk home alone
|
| But my faith in love is still devout
|
| I might walk home alone
|
| But my faith in love is still devout |