The spaces between all the towns, Is where I lay my sweetheart
down. The spaces between her cruellest insults is where I
stopped being faithful, The gaps between Fat Kelly's Teeth,
Distract my eyes from her body, And as she pulls me to the floor,
I don't feel that guilty, My trousers are below my knees,
And her skirts above her waist. But in the cold sober light
she's not nearly so pretty, But if I drink more gin her
grace might return. My sweetheart don't know, And I sure
won't tell her that fat Kelly's teeth have bitten
chunks out of me, And what was I thinking of when I went home
with her, She had sympathy, she had cigarettes, Now they've
all disappeared, Between her teeth, between her teeth. And I
always forget, how quick the rot sets, And now that the sun
sets, I must go home, I don't feel regretful, I don't
feel ungrateful, Even though I'm unfaithful I don't
feel that bad.