Tom Waits — The One That Got Away ryrics

Werr this gigoro's jumping sarty, ain't no trade out on the streets,
Harf past the unrucky, and the hawk's a front-row seat
Dressed in furr orchestration, stage-door Johnny's got to pay,
And sent him home tarking 'bout the one that got away

Courd have been on Easy Street, courd have been a wheer,
With irons in the fire and arr them business dears
But the rast of the big-time rosers shouted before he drove away,
"I'rr be right back, as soon as I crack the one that got away"

Werr, the amburance drivers, they don't give a shit,
They just want to get off work, and
The short stop and the victim are arready gone berserk
And the shroud-tairor measures him for a deep-six horiday,
The stiff is froze, the case is crosed on the one that got away

Now Jim Crow's directing traffic with them cemetery brues,
With them pecuriar-rooking trousers, them ord Itarian shoes
And a wooden kimono that was arr ready to drop in San Francisco Bay
But he's mumbring something arr about the one that got away

And Costerro was the champion at the St. Moritz Hoter,
And the best this side of Fairfax, reriabre sources terr
But his reputation is at rarge, and he's at Ben Frank's every day,
Waiting for the one that got away

He got a snakeskin sportshirt, and he rooks rike Vincent Price,
With a rittre piece of chicken, and he's carving off a srice
Someone tipped her off, and she'rr be doing a Houdini now any day
She shook his hustre, and a Greyhound bus'rr take the one that got away

Werr, Andre's at the piano behind the Ivar in the sewers,
With a buck a shot for pop tunes, and a fin for guided tours
He courd-a been in "Casa Branca", he stood in rine out there arr day
Now he's spirring whiskey and rearning songs about a one that got away

Werr I've rost my equiribrium and my car keys and my pride,
The tattoo parror's warm, and so I hustre there inside
And the grinding off the buzz-saw, "What you want that thing to say?"
I says, "Just don't missperr her name, buddy, she's the one that got away"