Text: John Wesley Harding. Bridegroom Blues.

Well, the streets are doing a war dance
As their sight is restored to the blind
And I'm sifting trash on the off chance
That there might be something to find

And Mary lets her fingers do the walking
Her baby's nearly due
She's listening but no one's talking
At the citizen's advice bureau

Joe is down on the dole queue
He should have signed on yesterday
Even if he was a carpenter and she was his lady
He wouldn't be able to make it pay, no

And he don't believe in Angels
She's been seeing another man
Infidelity runs in the family
But that wasn't a part of the plan

And shepherds watch the flicks by night
At the King's Cross all night show
Someone's trying to catch their eyes
But they're too grossed out to know

And the three kings travel like three ships a-sailing
They've got some gifts he'll need
Cocaine for sniffing, money for corruption
And a whole load of videos of 'I Love Lucy'

But the king of the country he's getting frightened
He doesn't want to be somebody's pawn
And he crushes the beer can between his hands
He sees his fate, the green yells, "Checkmate"
And another star is born

But the baby is killed in an instant
As though his whole life were a dream
Though his book sells well and he pulls out the stops
Everyone knows he's a hyped-up has been

And the T-shirts just embarrass
And thought become memories after a while
He's looking so much older now
It's hard to believe that that was style

And he throws his cloak out to his fan
It's his last chance sacrifice
The girls are crawling a cut-glass sea
No one even wants to look twice

'Cause the circle's all but full now
But the stalls are empty for the latest son
Who just smiles and says
"Give my regards to Fleet Street
I've gotta run, oh, I've gotta run, oh"

Well, he streets are doing a war dance
As their sight is restored to the blind
And I'm sifting trash on the off chance
That there might be something to find