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There are shadows on the sidewalks |
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Of the city streets at night, |
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And the alleyways and ugly things |
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Are hidden from the light. |
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And somewhere, son, my baby's |
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Gonna sell her soul again, |
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For a custom tailored lady-killer |
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They call sugar man. |
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I searched the backstreet barrooms, |
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And every cheap hotel, |
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Asking for my baby; they all knew her well. |
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Well, they said, "she's out there working |
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For the wages of her sin, |
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And if you want to find your baby, baby, |
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Look for sugar man." |
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Well, tonight i found her |
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On the sorry side of town |
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Lying cold upon the bed |
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Where she had laid her body down. |
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I picked up the needle that had fallen from her hand |
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And stuck it through the money she had made for sugar man. |
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There are shadows on the sidewalks |
|
Of the city streets at night |
|
And the alleyways and ugly things |
|
Are hidden from the light. |
|
But the sun's gonna shine tomorrow |
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On some dirty gargage cans, |
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And a custom tailored lady-killer |
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They called sugar man. |
