Mink DeVille
Mink DeVille
Mink DeVille
Mink DeVille
Mink DeVille
Mink DeVille
Mink DeVille
Mink DeVille
Mink DeVille
Mink DeVille
DeVille
Little Miss Tragedy is so misunderstood
She can hear you sniff a whip of a bad drugs a hundred yards away
And if she gets, you cornered she won't be satisfied, no she won't
And everything around her just seems to fly apart
But it has nobody to blame, nobody but yourself of being pulled in again
Into a slow drain, a slow drain
Mr. West Coast dealer he wants a front for you, yes I do, yes I do
And being so experienced and all, he knows just what to do
He says : 'You must be tired of the street, my friend, here's a place for you to rest'
And the price is never mentioned utill he gets your best
Always stop listening, nobody to blame
Nobody but yourself of being pulled in again
Into a slow drain, a slow drain
So you're new in town, you wanna meet some fans
They're all fresh hookers warming or pressing you in a doing thing
And if they get you cornered, they'd be coming 'round again and that's for shure
And everything they touch just seems to waste away
Always stop listening, nobody to blame
Nobody but yourself of being pushed in again
Into a slow drain, a slow drain
Slow drain, slow drain
Slow drain, slow drain
Hang you 'till you dry