I Never Could Guess Your Weight, Baby.

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.

They Say Every Man Needs Protection They Say Every Man Must Fall So, I Swear I See My Reflection Somewhere Inside These Walls... I Shall Be Released.

Truth Is An Arrow And The Gate Is Narrow That It Passes Through.

The National Bank At Profit Sells Road Maps For The Soul.

Shakespeare, He's In The Alley With His Pointed Shoes And His Bells, Speaking To Some French Girl Who Says She Knows Me Well.