| There’s a Carnival in Harlem
|
| Where my lady reads her gospel
|
| From a balcony of bones
|
| And I’m on my way to see her
|
| For as long as I’m without her
|
| There will be no such thing as home
|
| Certainly, I agree this feels right
|
| and your invitation tempts me so
|
| Normally, a former me would stay the night
|
| Oh, but there is somewhere I must go
|
| There’s a Carnival in Harlem
|
| Where my lady reads her gospel
|
| From a balcony of bones
|
| And I’m on my way to see her
|
| For as long as I’m without her
|
| There will be no such thing as home
|
| Lately I’ve been half alive and wounded
|
| Ravaged by the wolves and left for dead
|
| Oh, it’s true I really hate to do this
|
| But there is somewhere I must go instead
|
| There’s a Carnival in Harlem
|
| Where my lady reads her gospel
|
| From a balcony of bones
|
| And I’m on my way to see her
|
| For as long as I’m without her
|
| There will be no such thing as home
|
| She believes in Haunted Things
|
| And tells me I’m a fascinating liar
|
| We believe in Haunted Things
|
| I tell you we’re a building on fire
|
| There’s a Carnival in Harlem
|
| Where my lady reads her gospel
|
| From a balcony of bones
|
| And I’m on my way to see her
|
| For as long as I’m without her
|
| There will be no such thing as home
|
| There will be no such thing as home
|
| There will be no such thing as home |