| Edna Million in a drop dead suit
|
| Dutch pink on a downtown train
|
| Two dollar pistol but the gun won’t shoot
|
| I’m in the corner in the pouring rain
|
| 16 men on a deadman’s chest
|
| And I’ve been drinking from a broken cup
|
| 2 pairs of pants and a mohair vest
|
| I’m full of bourbon; |
| I can’t stand up.
|
| Hey little bird, fly away home
|
| Your house is on the fire; |
| your children all alone
|
| Hey little bird, fly away home
|
| Your house is on the fire; |
| your children all alone
|
| Schiffer broke a bottle on Morgan’s head
|
| And I’ve been stepping on the devil’s tail
|
| Across the stripes of a full moon’s head
|
| Through the bars of a Cuban jail
|
| Bloody fingers on a purple knife
|
| A flamingo drinking from a cocktail glass
|
| I’m on the lawn with somebody else’s wife
|
| Come admire the view from up on top of the mast
|
| Hey little bird, fly away home
|
| Your house is on the fire; |
| your children all alone
|
| Hey little bird, fly away home
|
| Your house is on the fire; |
| your children all alone
|
| Yellow sheets in a Hong Kong bed
|
| Stazybo horn and a Slingerland ride
|
| To the carnival is what she said
|
| A hundred dollars makes it dark inside
|
| Edna Million in a drop dead suit
|
| Dutch pink on a downtown train
|
| Two dollar pistol but the gun won’t shoot
|
| I’m in the corner in the pouring rain
|
| Hey little bird, fly away home
|
| Your house is on the fire; |
| your children all alone
|
| Hey little bird, fly away home
|
| Your house is on the fire; |
| your children all alone |