In the year of the scavenger, the season of the b!tch 
	Sashay on the boardwalk, scurry to the ditch 
	Just another future song, lonely little kitsch 
	(There's gonna be sorrow) try and wake up tomorrow
 
	I'll keep a friend serene (Will they come?) 
	Oh baby, come unto me(Will they come?) 
	Well, she's come, been and gone 
	Come out of the garden, baby 
	You'll catch your death in the fog 
	Young girl, they call them the Diamond Dogs