I spend my evenings alone talking to your picture, babe Love is. Wrapped around my heart like a boa constrictor, babe My mother. Should have murdered me What jury would convict her, babe for.
On winter nights the mermaid sings. I was made for better things. Better things, dearie, better things. . In early spring the ghost princess. Goes haunting in her pretty dress.
Bitter tears keep me going. Through the years, freely flowing. What have you done. Only a gun could stop these bitter tears. . The endless streets I walk along.