Rainbow's Dead End - James Reyne

Star-crossed junkie misfits on the run

Some expensive wardrobe

A car, a gun for fun

They took her valise, a portmanteau

Such a civilised way to go

This must be the rainbow’s dead-end

Peel back that velvet rope and come inside

There’s Jungle Jim at Mr. Chow’s

With his mail-order bride

The higher that monkey climbs that tree

The more of his fat ass you’ll see

This must be…

Bridge: If we get separated

I’ll meet you there

In our little hideaway

Our pied-a-terre

Last year’s model stranded in the bar

With some NRA convention

Itchy fingers

Whiskey in the jar

Through this gin palace Alice wander

Absinthe makes this tart grow fonder

This must be…

Hotel, motel drifters one and all

Lie like dead men down in rows

Against the Bondi Beach sea wall

The mirror smeared with wasted chance

And nicotine stained romance

This must be…