They're selling postcards of the hanging.
Where they're painting the passports brown.
And the beauty parlor's filled with sailors.
The circus is in town.
Oh now here comes the blind commissoner.
Well they've got him in a trance.
One hand is tied to the tightrope walker.
The other's in his pants.
And the riot squad they're restless
They need some where to go.
As lady and I look out tonight
On Desolation Row.
Cinderella she seem so easy.
Well it takes on to know one she smiles.
Then puts her hand in her back pocket,
Betty davis style.
And then in comes Romeo moaning.
You Belong to me I believe.
And someone says your in the wrong place my friend
You better leave.
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go.
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row.
Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crews
Go Out and Round up everyone
That knows more than they do.
They gonna bring them to the factory
Where the heart attack machines
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men that Go
Check to see that no one is escaping
To Desolation Row
Cause Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no.
Not unless you gotto
Desolation Row.