In the Arrivederci Roma nightclub bar and grill. Standing in the fiberglass ruins watching time stand still. All your troubles you confess to another faceless backless dress. Schnapps chianti porter and ouzo. Pernod vodka sambuca--I love you so. Deportee. There's a tatty beauty talking in riddles. Rome burns down and everybody fiddles. Deportee. But a thousand dollars won't buy you a Yank you wife alas. There's a thousand years of history ground in this chaser glass. And how I wish that she was mine. I could have been the King in Six Eight Time. Deportee. Oh it's a brittle charm but she's had enough. Still she wrote her name upon his paper cuff. And you don't where to start or where to stop. All this pillow talk is nothing more than finally talking shop. When I came here tonight my pockets were overflowing. They took my return ticket without me even knowing. Well I pray to the saints and all the martyrs. For the secret life of Frank Sinatra. But none of these things have come to pass. In America the law is a piece of ass. Deportee. So it's Schnapps chianti porter and ouzo. Pernod vodka sambuca--I love you so. Deportee. Deportee. Poor Deportee