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DeVille |
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Little Miss Tragedy is so misunderstood |
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She can hear you sniff a whip of a bad drugs a hundred yards away |
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And if she gets, you cornered she won't be satisfied, no she won't |
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And everything around her just seems to fly apart |
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But it has nobody to blame, nobody but yourself of being pulled in again |
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Into a slow drain, a slow drain. |
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Mr. West Coast dealer he wants a front for you, yes I do, yes I do |
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And being so experienced and all, he knows just what to do |
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He says : 'You must be tired of the street, my friend, here's a place for you to rest' |
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And the price is never mentioned utill he gets your best |
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Always stop listening, nobody to blame |
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Nobody but yourself of being pulled in again |
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Into a slow drain, a slow drain. |
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So you're new in town, you wanna meet some fans |
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They're all fresh hookers warming or pressing you in a doing thing |
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And if they get you cornered, they'd be coming 'round again and that's for shure |
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And everything they touch just seems to waste away |
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Always stop listening, nobody to blame |
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Nobody but yourself of being pushed in again |
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Into a slow drain, a slow drain |
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Slow drain, slow drain |
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Slow drain, slow drain |
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Hang you 'till you dry. |
