Mistreat me darling, and I might just disappear Upon freighter running dark out of Algiers Put tiny grains in children tears While taking twenty five percent Of all the flashbulbs and mementos From the mechanized divisions rolling over your frontiers
I saw my baby talking to a man today Speaking softly in a confidential way I saw a shadow pull his glove off As a bluebird flew over, life's no pleasure When you doubt the one you love
Who are all these strangers?
I never will go back again, go back into the past For the flood is rising fast You can break your window and look down Into the muddy glass, it's a mirror or a lens to burn
Now there was a deal done in Benghazi and Belgrade Upon a scimitar or other crooked blade Ransacks and loots, vacated suits And a pistol points but never shoots An army sitting in a locomotive yard without their boots
Upstairs, your man is painting rain out in the street Imagines woman that he's destined still to meet He's trying to sidetrack one to count on Caught somewhere between a countess and a courtesan And it's only love to feign and then it's gone
Who are all these strangers?
He's a privateer as dusk gets near A brigand after dark, his victim lined with chalk A corsair filled with horsehair to the core Dashed on your eyes of Adamantine You despised his stripling whine
That little smudger and the mouthpiece that he's with Using his clause just like a practiced finger smith I dreamed I took his digit prints And then I sewed them on a villain's hands Watched him ransom and demand and then called the flatfoots in
I never will go back again, go back into the past The flood is rising fast You can break your window and look down Into the muddy glass, it's a mirror or a lens to burn
Who are all these strangers? All these strangers Sat upon a narrow bed Thought about the things she said All these strangers
How I wished the night would end Tried to stop the days ahead I'd carve her name down in the wood Some small remembrance if I couldTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.