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The guilty undertaker signs, the lonesome organ grinder cries, the sliver saxophones say Ishould refuse you. Cracked bells and washed out horns blow into my face with scorn. It's not that way, I wasn't born to lose you. I want you, I want you, I want you so bad. Drunken politicians leap under the streets where mothers weep, saviours lying fast asleep, they wait for you. I wait for them to interrupt me, drinking from my broken cup and ask for me to open up the gate for you. I want you, I want you, I want you so bad. All my fathers, they've gone down. True love, they live without it and all their daughters, they still put me down, because I think about it. I returned to the Queen of Spades, talked with my chambermaid. She knows that I'm not afraid to look at her. She's good to me, there's nothing she don't see. She knows where I would rather be, but that doesn't matter. Dancing child with his shiny suit, he spoke to me, I took his flute. No, I wasn't that cute to him, was I? I did it all because he lied, because he took you for a ride, because time was on his side,
because I want you, I want you, I want you, so bad.