The guilty undertaker sighs

The lonesome organ grinder cries

The silver saxophones say

I should refuse you

The cracked bells and washed-out horns

Blow into my face with scorn

But it's not that way

I wasn't born to lose you

I want you, I want you

I want you so bad

Honey, I want you

The drunken politician leaps

Upon the street where mothers weep

And the saviors who are fast asleep

They wait for you

And I wait for them to interrupt

Me drinkin' from my broken cup

And ask for me


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