Wealthy young men, hale tall timber
It wasn't for me to ask why
At the top of the morning, top, top, top of the street
No truth and lie, lie, lie, lie
While others are halted mid-step to the beat
Make one sickening body
Some people weren't born to dance
O, there's no faith in this article, baby
But to reason with a dry mouth and a half-open eye
I woke up one morning and it lay there beside me
The burnt English girls bray like mares
And make it swing like a witch
While over the river, with needles for teeth
Some people weren't born to dance
Drunk on domestic beer
The city horses are tired, give them something to drink
(O, the living is hard)
As he smoothes sour cream from his moll's pony
Is a look when you look, look, look
Of a rank Summer Saturday here
No truth and no lie, lie, lie, lie
Who dally in the Spring time then steady in the Winter
And metes her an unholy barrage
But to reason with a dry mouth and a half-open eye
While others are halted mid-step to the beat
Take to drink and drown, drown
It wasn't for me to ask why
The spindle and stick men, apportioned a grief
O, the stories I love and the stories I hate
I woke up one morning and it lay there beside me
Take the weight of the wagon from off of their shoulders
There's no faith in this article baby
Is a look when you look, look, look, look into somebody's eyes
And you know that they'd just as soon kill you as smile
Of a song in the key of chance
The men leer like snakes
And the iron from their feet
Born of a base urge and a high mind
Look into somebody's eyes and you meet
