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She's not exactly happy
as moonlight turns to day
the buzz within her ears
leaves nothing left to say

The weakeyed fool she married
has turned his heart to booze
the strings of mad temptation
was never on the loose

She almost has forgotten
the kind of dress she wore
when art and conversation
was nothing but a bore

The way she looked at people
whenever they would pray
for jesus christ the savior
the true and only way

She really needs a slaughter
a dance on broken glass
there should be angels working
to kick some lady's ass

I bet she won't be happy
without the violin
old Leonard should be praised
for keeping up her chin

And some of us will try
to sing the song he sings
and face the mournful cries
the moonlight always brings