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She says nobody wants to believe |
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You're the same as everyone. |
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What makes me unique? My Dark Life. |
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There was a kink in the world |
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Sent that statue tumbling |
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An invitation east |
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So we can watch it all crumbling |
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She came off like light and so softly she spoke: |
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"You don't know, no you don't know about my dark life" |
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And you think you're a guest, you're a tourist at best |
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Peering into the corners of your dark life |
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Now that you tear your dreams from consumptive ballerinas |
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She'd stand on tiptoes for you in a grey and tattered tutu |
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She stays where she is because of voyeurs like these |
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With an accusative look that says My Dark Life. |
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Robber men await you then in each beguiling alley |
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To shake you and to pierce you and remind you of |
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My Dark Life. |
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Enter the pious elite, in their preening finery |
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And bang the tambourine |
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They're dining on rice paper scenery |
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See how the villain attracts envious glances from everyone |
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She's waitressing by day |
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It doesn't bring in much money now |
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And his strong concealed arms set off bells and alarms |
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In the strangest locations of My Dark Life |
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But the fantasy slipped as he tipped her in cigarettes |
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She tries to smile very graciously when she wants to kill him |
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Now the victory is sweet, you'll get down on your knees |
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It's the perfect position for kissing western leather |
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So they came from Ugly Texas and from Nameless Tennessee |
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From Peculiar Missouri and from places closer to me. |
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All the cream of heartless England, cheered the carnival is over |
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There are remnants of red army bandsmen |
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Played "America The Beautiful" |
