Mercy

She steps right off the pages of a book that’s long been banned
And into the saloon bar, where I’m waiting for my man
It’s ludicrous. She’s luminous. I can’t stay in the room
The pathology of passion says that I shall be consumed
She’s everything you think you want, perhaps a little more
As far away as China, with three bolts upon the door;
The first of these is reason, the second bolt is time
The third one’s self-destruction, but that part suits me fine
Fishy no — don’t do this, because you won’t get through this
You’ve already let this pass you by. My, my
Fishy no — don’t do this, because you won’t get through this
She’s already let you pass her by. My, my
Oh, Mercy, there’s no beauty without cruelty