Lyrics

I realized right off the bat
she was my kind of gal,
just like she wore a sandwich board
that spelled out femme fatale.
I shook a pack of coffin nails,
set one of them on fire,
and looked at her through wreaths of smoke
and tendrils of desire.

The currency that we exchanged
transcended the financial.
I believed she walked on water,
or something less substantial.
She played me like a sousaphone,
She flew me like a kite.
She enticed me to the tunnel
at the end of the light.

It’s not my first rodeo.
Is it my last dance?
I know if I let her go,
there’ll be no second chance.

She sent me to a bungalow.
I didn’t find a stiff.
There was no one sapped or knifed
or driven off a cliff.
I found her missing gigolo.
He was alive and well.
Was this some kind of Pollyanna
soft-boiled hell?

I always was the sour fox,
unworthy of the grapes,
I never got to find my Jane,
like Tarzan of the apes.
I never seemed to find a way
of getting past those strictures.
I never got to say the word
that’s worth a thousand pictures.

This was my last rodeo,
my final romance.
Star-crossed like Romeo,
doomed in advance.