From a few streets over   Before the sun goes down   You can hear it coming closer   To this dislocated shoulder   of an old and crooked town   That's when the ice cream van rolls around      But in the land of plenty    The money here is tight   The children here are many   (And if you do have any)   He will park his van outside   There waits the ice cream man with the cold dark eyes       For it's not a "Rockwell" summer   or a world of "Dick and Jane"   And how it makes you shudder   Like you used to hide from thunder   When you hear him coming down the lane   And you condemn the ice cream man to the world of flame      A sickly, sweet wind is blowing   Across the fields of hell   A licorice night's unfolding   Near a grave sight a corroded   old and burnt out carousel   Here lies the ice cream man, the devil treats him well