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The stories of the street are mine,the Spanish voices laugh.
The Cadillacs go creeping now through the night and the poison gas,
I met a woman long ago
her hair the black that black can go,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Soft she answered no....
A bunch of lonesome and very quarrelsome heroes
were smoking out along the open road;
the night was very dark and thick...
When they poured across the border
I was cautioned to surrender,
this I could not do;
I took my gun and vanished.
I finally broke into the prison,
I found my place in the chain.
Even damnation is poisoned with rainbows,
all the...
I came upon a butcher,
he was slaughtering a lamb,
I accused him there
with his tortured lamb.
He said,...
The rain falls down on last year's man,
that's a Jew's harp on the table,
that's a crayon in his hand....
Four o'clock in the afternoon
and I didn't feel like very much.
I said to myself, \"Where are you golden boy,
where...
Field Commander Cohen, he was our most important spy.
Wounded in the line of duty,
parachuting acid into diplomatic cocktail...
I tried to leave you, I don't deny
I closed the book on us, at least a hundred times.
I'd wake up every morning by your side....
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I saw you this morning.
You were moving so fast.
Cant seem to loosen my grip
On the past.
And I miss you so much.
Theres no one in sight.
And were still making love
In My Secret Life.
I smile when Im angry.
I cheat and I lie.
I do what I have to do
To get by.
But I know what is wrong,
And I know what is right.
And Id die for the truth
In My Secret Life.
Hold on, hold on, my brother.
My sister, hold on tight.
I finally got my orders.
Ill be marching through the morning,
Marching through the night,
Moving cross the borders
Of My Secret Life.
Looked through the paper.
Makes you want to cry.
Nobody cares if the people
Live or die.
And the dealer wants you thinking
That its either black or white.
Thank G-d its not that simple
In My Secret Life.
I bite my lip.
I buy what Im told:
From the latest hit,
To the wisdom of old.
But Im always alone.
And my heart is like ice.
And its crowded and cold
In My Secret Life.
[Thanks to gab__67@yahoo.com for these lyrics]
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