They're selling postcard_
s at the hanging
They're painting the
past por_ ous brown
The beauty parlor's filled with sailors,
the circus is in town.
And in walks the blind commissioner,
they've got him in a trance.
One hand is tied to the tightrope walker,
the other is in his pants.
And they're asked why
they're restless
They need somewhere to go
This lady and I look out tonight
On Desolation Road
Cinderella, she seems so easy
Takes one to know one, she smiles
Puts her hands in her back pockets
Betty Davis style
And in walks Romeo, he's moaning
You be_ long to me, I believe
Someone says you're in the wrong place,
my friend
You'd better leave
The only sound you can hear
af_ ter the ambulances go
Cinderella sweeping up
on Desolation Road
No, I feel ya, she's neat the win_ dow
For her, feel so afraid
On her 22nd birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
Though her gaze is fixed
upon Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time
Peep_ ing in on Desolation and hope
Now this time the moon
Is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortune -telling lady
Has already taken all her things inside
Well, except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre
Dame
Everybody's either making love
Or else expecting rain
And the good Samaritan, he's dressing,
he's getting ready for the show
He's going down to the carnival tonight,
on Desolation Road
Now Einstein discusses Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend a jealous monkey
Oh, he looked so immaculately frightful,
as he bummed a cigarette.
And you went on sniffing grain pipes,
and reciting the alphabet.
Well, you wouldn't think to look at him,
but he was fam_ ous long ago.
We're playing electric violin
on a desolation row
Dr. Phil, he keeps his world
in_ side of a leather cup
And all his sexless patients,
they're all trying to blow it up.
His nurse, some local loser,
she's in charge of the cyanide hole.
She also keeps the cards that read
have mercy on his soul
Yes, they all play on the penny whistle
Yes, you can hear them blow
If you lean your head out
Bar it up on the distillation room
across the street
they've nailed the curtains
they're getting ready for the
feast fandom of the opera
in the per_ fect image of a priest
And they're spoon -feeding Casanova
To get him to feel more as_ sured
Then they'll kill him with
self -confidence
After poisoning him with words
An_ d the fandom's shouting,
two skinny girls
Get out of here, you don't know
Cas_ anova's just being punished
We're going to Decimation Road
Now at midnight all the agents
An_ d the superhuman crew
They go and round up everyone
who knows more than they do
Then they take them to the factory
where the heart attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
Then the kerosene is brought
down from the castles
by in_ surance men who go to
make sure nobody's escaping
to desolation roads
Oh praise be to Ner_ o's Neptune,
the Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody's shouting,
which side are you on?
Ezra Pound and T .S. Elliott,
they're fighting in
the captain's tower_ ,
while Calypso singers laugh at them,
and fishermen throw flower_ s
between the windows of the sea,
where lonely mermaid_ s float.
An_ d no one has to think too much
about the desolation road.
Yes, I received your letter yesterday
about the time the door not broke
When you asked how I was doing,
was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mentioned,
yes, I know that they're quite lame.
I have to rearrange their faces
and give them all another name.
Right now, I can't read too good,
don't send me no more letters, no
Not unless you mail in
Bob Weir 
