They're selling postcards of the hanging

Well, they're painting the passports brown

Yeah, the beauty parlor's filled with sailors

The circus is in town

Oh no, but here comes the blind commissioner

Well, they've got him in a trance

One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker

The other's in his pants

And the riot squad, they're restless

They need somewhere to go

As Lady and I look out tonight from

Desolation Row

Oh, Cinderella, she seems so easy

"Well, it takes one to know one," she smiles

And she puts her hands in her back pockets

Bette Davis style

Now, but here comes Romeo, moaning

"You belong to me, I believe"

And someone says

"You're in the wrong place, my friend

You better leave"

And then the only sound that's left

After the ambulances go

Is Cinderella sweeping up on

Desolation Row

Yeah, at midnight all the agents

And superhuman crew

Go out and round up everyone

That knows more than they do

They're gonna bring them to the factory

Where the heart-attack machine

Is strapped across their shoulders

And then the kerosene

Is brought down from the castles

By insurance men who go

Check to see that no one is escaping to

Desolation Row

And so now

I can't read too good

Don't send me no letters, no!

Not unless you gotta mail them from

Desolation Row