The gigolo's jumpin salty
Ain't no trade out on the streets
Half past the unlucky
And the hawk's a front-row seat
Dressed in full orchestration
Stage door Johnny’s got to pay
And sent him home 
Talking bout the one that got away
Could’ve been on easy street
Could’ve been a wheel
With irons in the fire 
And all them business deals
But the last of the big-time losers 
Shouted before he drove away
I'll be right back as soon as I crack 
The one that got away
The ambulance drivers, they don't give a shit
They just want to get off work
And the short stop and the victim 
Have already gone berserk
And the shroud-tailor measures him 
For a deep-six holiday
The stiff is froze, the case is closed 
On the one that got away
Jim Crow's directing traffic 
With them cemetery blues
With them peculiar looking trousers
Them old Italian shoes
The wooden kimona was all ready 
To drop in San Francisco Bay
But he's mumbling something 
All about the one that got away
Costello was the champion 
At the St. Moritz Hotel
And the best this side of Fairfax
Reliable sources tell
But his reputation is at large
And he's at Ben Frank's every day
Waiting for the one that got away
He's got a snake skin sportshirt, 
And he looks like Vincent Price
With a little piece of chicken 
And he's carving off a slice
But someone tipped her off 
She'll be doing a Houdini now, any day
She shook his hustle
And a Greyhound bus'll 
Take the one that got away
Andre is at the piano 
Behind the Ivar in the sewers
With a buck a shot for pop tunes
And a fin for guided tours
He could’ve been in Casablanca
He stood in line out there all day
But now he's spilling whiskey 
And learning songs about a one that got away
Well I've lost my equilibrium 
My car keys and my pride
Tattoo parlour's warm 
And so I huddle there inside
And the grinding of the buzz saw
Whatchuwanthathingtosay
Just don't misspell her name
Buddy, she's the one that got away