He makes his own dreams,
his own paradise
But paradise is just a false alarm
And no one's really sadder than
The man with the golden arm
He buys every thrill
And pays any price
And thinks he's having fun
And what's the harm?
He's following the devil's plan
The man with the golden eye
What is that strange desire
That sets his soul afire?
The hopeless need for it
That makes him plead for it
The walls start closing in,
the room begins to spin.
There's no escape and
there's no friend.
How did it start and where will it end?
The ending is clear and not very nice.
A nameless grave
behind some prison farm.
There is no story sadder
than
the man with the golden arm.
But there's a chance
that he can shake the misery.
That's if he's strong enough
and fights it long enough.
The ones who do are rare,
but with some hope and prayer
The nightmare's done and so's the end
You find the sun and walk among men
An d gone are the dreams,
the fool's paradise
The heaven that was just a false alarm
And no one's really gladder
than
the man with the golden arm.
Oh.