Sad-eyed Lady of the Lowland

With your mercury mouth in the missionary times
And your eyes like smoke
And your prayers like rhymes
And your silver cross, and your voice like chimes
Oh, who among them do they think
Could bury you?

With your pockets well protected at last
And your streetcar visions
Which you place on the grass
And your flesh like silk, and your face like glass
Who among them do they think
Could carry you?

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says
That no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

With your sheets like metal
And your belt like lace
And your deck of cards
Missing the jack and the ace
And your basement clothes
And your hollow face
Who among them can think he
Could outguess you?

With your silhouette when the sunlight dims
Into your eyes where the moonlight swims
And your matchbook songs
And your gypsy hymns
Who among them would try to impress you?

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says
That no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

The kings of Tyrus with their convict list
Are waiting in line for their geranium kiss
And you wouldn't know
It would happen like this
But who among them
Really wants just to kiss you?

With your childhood flames
On your midnight rug
And your Spanish manners
And your mother's drugs
And your cowboy mouth
And your curfew plugs
Who among them
Do you think could resist you?

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says
That no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

Oh, the farmers and the businessmen,
They all did decide
To show you the dead angels
That they used to hide
But why did they pick you to
Sympathize with their side?
Oh, how could they ever mistake you?

They wished you'd accepted
The blame for the farm
But with the sea at your feet
And the phony false alarm
And with the child of a hoodlum
Wrapped up in your arms
How could they ever, ever persuade you?

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says
That no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

With your sheet-metal memory
Of Cannery Row
And your magazine-husband
Who one day just had to go
And your gentleness now,
Which you just can't help but show
Who among them do you think
Would employ you?

Now you stand with your thief,
You're on his parole
With your holy medallion
Which your fingertips fold
And your saintlike face
And your ghostlike soul
Oh, who among them do you think could destroy you?

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says
That no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?