In the year of the scavenger, the season of the b!tch
Sashay on the boardwalk, scurry to the ditch
Just another future song, lonely little kitsch
(There's gonna be sorrow) try and wake up tomorrow
I'll keep a friend serene (Will they come?)
Oh baby, come unto me(Will they come?)
Well, she's come, been and gone
Come out of the garden, baby
You'll catch your death in the fog
Young girl, they call them the Diamond Dogs