My small town, Napoleon Would tell me I am not up with love Well just because I share your dark hair Does not make us friends She threw an accordion From the highest floor And when it hit the ground That's when I found the door Can't fix it Fevered pitches The artist Who paints no more It's not that I don't admire her I flashed her a gin grin It is merely that she tires me And scares me half to death She stood behind Trotsky's fence Divulging the secrets of electroshock treatment Like a feather weight on a freight train Searching endlessly away She will not speak Will not believe She will not even face My animal friends My animal friends My animal friends My animal friends My animal friends Melting icecaps all around The tables set here comes the clown She's holding hands with Death I guess I am to blame for this big mess The history book is open to rules That separates you from me