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Shark Week
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Desire
I said I'm Leaving, on a midnight train
You got the news that your good man's gone, and you won't find him again
He's got his big blue eyes, and his long dark hair
Check the papers for the lost and the found but you won't find him there
You might wanna pack up now honey…
I know that you're a prima-ballerina, just a little more than half past dead
You're more than just a little sentimental when the drugs ain't made it to your head
Desire, ain't your streetcar
Fire, honey, ain't your dish
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I'm afraid you noticed it, you're just a kid
You might wanna back up a little honey if you knew just what I did
Where'd your good man go? Well, perhaps he's dead
Walk into the river with rocks in your pockets, and your good man running through your head
Where could he go? Where could he be?
Use the hounds, track the lamb, you aint ever gonna find me
you might wanna pack up now honey…
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