When the taxis gather in mock Solemnity |
| Funeral hearses court the death of virginity |
| Was it paradise lost or paradise found? |
| Did we gain respect or were we holding ground? |
| You had found true love, or so you believed |
| And the wideboys tattooed your hearts upon their sleeves |
So when you think it's time to go |
| When you think it's time to go |
| Don't be surprised, the heroes never show |
And the patter merchants selling false impressions |
| Tipping eyes at the waitress with American expressions |
| Tie angels to the bar with sweet Martini's and their charms |
| They're lying on every word and every arm |
| They're turning down their noses to the best lines |
| And the cheap wines |
And the wideboys |
| They wear their lovebites for their crimes |