My love lives in a dead house on the mud of the riverbank The kiss of the moon beams into the room And my love walks the plank Lies there, on the blue leather chaise longue Tipping ash on the floor All my stuff was never good enough My love wanted more My love falls in the gutter, eyes like a Loony Tune Walks with a limp, speaks with a stutter Smells like a waiting room Hailed in certain circles for a kind of circus kitsch Down on the ranch with Jessie and Blanche Pulling in the dogs like a bitch Body takes over from body Face takes over from face But only an angel Can take an angel's place My love sleeps in the black bones of a burned out Peugout Picked up a summer cruise in a trumpet player's shoes Had no place to go My love lives in a dead house And as the rain begins to hiss Shrieks and screams Scotched by the dream That left a poor boy hanging on the lips. like a wounded kiss Hanging on the lips Like a wounded kiss Body takes over from body Face takes over from face But only an angel Can take an angel's place My love lives in a dead house