Lyrics: The One that Got Away

While the gigolo's jumping salty, ain't no trade out on the street,
Half-past the unlucky, and he hawks a front-row seat
Dressed in full orchestration, Stage Door Johnny's got to pay,
And send him home talking 'bout the one that got away

Could have been on Easy Street, could have 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"

Well, ambulance drivers, they don't give a shit,
They just want to get off work,
'N the short stop and the victim 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

Now Jim Crow's directing traffic with them cemetery blues,
With them peculiar looking trousers, and them old Italian shoes
And a wooden come-on that was all ready to drop in San Francisco Bay
But he's mumbling something all about the one that got away

Costello was a 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 got a snakeskin sportshirt, and he looks like Vincent Price,
With a little piece of chicken, and he's carving off a slice
Someone tipped her off, she'll be doing a Houdini now any day
She shook his hustle, a Greyhound bus'll take the one that got away

Well, Andre's at the piano behind the ivory masseurs,
With a buck a shot for pop tunes, and a fin for guided tours
He coulda been in "Casablanca", he stood in line out there all day
Now he's spilling whiskey and learning songs about the one that got away

Well I've lost my equilibrium, my car keys and my pride,
The tattoo parlor's warm, and so I hustle there inside
And the grinding of the buzz-saw, "What you want that thing to say?"
I says, "Uh, don't misspell her name, but she's the one that got away"