Oh, the light left the room,
Deborah, where did it go?
She said that she left home a Yankee with something to sell,
But the seas got dry somehow
There’s no such thing as grim weather out here,
You don’t have to trust me,
I know as I set up my circus tent, one week later,
To want to rip it down
She had the highest disease,
For which there’s never a cure,
At least that’s what she believes
Oh, the ambulance left her
In a heap next to a bar,
Like an ordinary citizen tied up in the trunk of a car,
Oh, but she don’t moan none
She just gets taller
As the trees find their way down,
And the bottom’s the top as I trade in my radio for something smaller,
Something I can fit into my pulse,
Oh, the highest disease,
For which there’s never a cure
At least that’s what she believes
And when the city gets rough,
She gets into her balloon,
Leaving all the old stuff,
Leaving only with,
All this useless beauty now,
All this useless beauty
Oh, the light left the room
Deborah, where did it go?
She said that she left home a Yankee with something to sell,
But the seas got dry somehow
There’s no such thing as grim weather out here,
You don’t have to trust me,
I know as I set up my circus tent, one week later,
To want to rip it down
All this useless beauty now,
All this useless beauty.