Well they packed up their violin cases ??
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Hopped in a big black Studebaker, they were acting pretty scary
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No one talked as they synchronized their watches
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And they drove past a train station
|
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The train rolled out with a passenger car
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Filled with retired millionaires and movie stars
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?? coats
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?? and that would be all she wrote
|
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And the gangsters, cowboys, gypsies, and freewheelers
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Sold out their trades to become drug dealers
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There ain't no money in doing things straight
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Your community thanks you, business is good, and nice guys don't get paid
|
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Outside the train window fast as he could ride
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Was a kid on a horse with a head full of lies
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And the tears of excitement couldn't put out the fire in his eyes
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For the house he was riding to burglarize
|
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All through the house they were dancing and singing
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An extended family with fiddlers and magicians
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A juggler and a chemist who'd invent potion
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to pacify all the killers and rapist
|
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The chemist died in the burglary and they sold the prescription
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For a case of cheap red wine to a traveling salesman
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In a three-wheeled jalopy; he bought and sold potions
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To the city that looked over the ocean
|
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And he sold the last drop, it was big with the rich kids
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And soon the city would be crawling with addicts
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And back rooms, dark allies, basements and attics
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(When?) a fly is trapped in a spider's web (but a bat's got the spider?)
|
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And no one knows what's going on
|
But you've gotta show up for yourself at the end of the day
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And nice guys don't get paid
|
Nice guys don't get paid
|
|
Now all the hopeless romantics are wearing white collars
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(Upstanding assassins?) cleaning filthy dollars
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Car-jacking fanatics who kill for religion
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In a city full of addicts and color television
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|
-----------------
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Nice Guys (Don't Get Paid)
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| Soul Asylum |
