They're selling postcards
of the hanging, they're painting
the passports brown The beauty parlor is
filled with sailors, the circus is in town Here comes the
blind commissioner, they've got him in a trance One hand is tied to
the tight-rope walker, the other is in his pants And the riot squad
they're restless, they need somewhere to go As Lady and I look out tonight, from Desolation Row Cinderella, she seems so easy, "It takes one to know one, "
she smiles And puts her hands in
her back pocket Bette Davis style And in comes Romeo,
he's moaning. "You Belong to Me I Believe" And someone says, "You're in
the wrong place, my friend, you'd better leave" And the only sound that's left after the ambulances go Is Cinderella sweeping up on Desolation Row Now the moon is almost hidden, the stars are beginning to hide The fortune telling lady has even taken all
her things inside All except for Cain and Abel and the hunchback of Notre Dame Everybody is making love or else expecting rain And the Good Samaritan,
he's dressing, he's getting ready for the show He's going to the
carnival tonight on Desolation Row Ophelia, she's 'neath the window for her I feel so afraid On her twenty-second birthday she already is an old maid To her, death is quite romantic she wears an iron vest Her profession's her religion, her sin is her lifelessness And though her eyes
are fixed upon Noah's great rainbow She spends her time peeking into Desolation Row Einstein, disguised
as Robin Hood with his memories in a trunk Passed this way an hour ago with his friend, a jealous monk Now he looked so
immaculately frightful as he bummed a cigarette And he when off
sniffing drainpipes and reciting the alphabet You would not think to
look at him, but he was famous long ago For playing the electric violin on Desolation Row Dr. Filth, he keeps his world inside of a leather cup But all his sexless patients, they're trying to blow it up Now his nurse,
some local loser, she's in charge of
the cyanide hole And she also keeps the
cards that read, "Have Mercy on His Soul" They all play on
the penny whistles, you can hear them blow If you lean your head
out far enough from Desolation Row Across the street
they've nailed the curtains, they're getting ready
for the feast The Phantom of the Opera in a perfect image of a priest They are spoon feeding Casanova to get him to feel more assured Then they'll kill him
with self-confidence after poisoning him with words And the Phantom's shouting
to skinny girls, "Get outta here
if you don't know" Casanova is just being
punished for going to Desolation Row" At midnight all the agents and the superhuman crew Come out and round up everyone that knows more than they do Then they bring them
to the factory where the heart-attack machine Is strapped across
their shoulders and then the kerosene Is brought down from the castles by insurance men who go Check to see that
nobody is escaping to Desolation Row Praise be to Nero's Neptune, the Titanic sails at dawn Everybody's shouting, "Which side are you on?!" And Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot fighting in the captain's tower While calypso singers
laugh at them and fishermen hold flowers Between the windows of the sea where lovely mermaids flow And nobody has to think
too much about Desolation Row Yes, I received your
letter yesterday, about the time the
doorknob broke When you asked me
how I was doing, was that some kind of joke All these people
that you mention, yes, I know them,
they're quite lame I had to rearrange their faces and give them all another name Right now,
I can't read too good, don't send me no more letters no Not unless you mail them from Desolation Row
