Grateful Dead - Desolation Row Lyrics
They're selling postcards of the hangingThey're painting the passports brownThe beauty parlor is filled with sailorsThe circus is in town here comes the blind commissionerThey've got him in a trance one hand is tied to the tight-rope walkerThe other is in his pants and the riot squad they're restlessThey need somewhere to go as Lady and I look out tonightFrom Desolation Row.Cinderella, she seems so easy"It takes one to know one," she smilesAnd puts her hands in her back pocketsBette 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 friendYou Better leave" and the only sound that's leftAfter the ambulances go is Cinderella sweeping upOn Desolation RowNow the moon is almost hidden the stars are beginning to hidethe fortune telling lady Has even taken all her things insideAll except for Cain and Abel and the hunchback of Notre DameEverybody is making love or else expecting rainAnd the Good Samaritan, he's dressing he's getting ready for the showHe's going to the carnival tonightOn Desolation RowNow Ophelia, she's neath the window for her I feel so afraidOn her twenty-second birthday she already is an old maidTo her, death is quite romantic she wears an iron vestHer profession's her religion her sin is her lifelessnessAnd though her eyes are fixed upon Noah's great rainbowShe spend her time peekingInto Desolation RowEinstein disguised as Robin Hood with his memories in a trunkPassed this way an hour ago with his friend, a jealous monkHe looked so immaculately frightful as he bummed a cigaretteAs he went off sniffing drainpipes and reciting the alphabetNow you would not think to look at him but he was famous long agoFor playing the electric violinOn Desolation RowDr. Filth, he keeps his world inside of a leather cupBut all his sexless patients they're trying to blow it upNow his nurse, some local loser she's in charge of the cyanide holeAnd she also keeps the cards that read "Have Mercy on His Soul"They all play on the penny whistles you can hear then blowIf you lean your head out far enoughFrom Desolation Row