Children, Broadripple is burning
And the girls are getting sick
Off huffing glue up in the bathroom
While your boyfriends pick up chicks
And darling I'm lost
I heard you whispering
That night in fountain square
The trashed filled streets made me wish we were heading home

There was love inside the basement
Where that woman used to lie
In a sleeping bag we shared upon
The floor most every night
And darling I'm drunk,
And everything that I have loved has turned to stone
So pack your bags and come back home

And I'm wasted
You can taste it
Don't look at me that way,
'Cause I'll be hanging from a rope
I will haunt you like a ghost

And if my woman was a fire,
She'd burn out before I wake,
And be replaced by pints of whiskey,
Cigarettes, and outer space
Then somebody moves
And everything you thought you had will go to shit
Well, we've got a lot
Don't ever forget that

And I wrote this on airplane where the people looked like eggs
And when a woman that you loved was gone,
She was bombing East Japan
And don't fucking move,
'Cause everything you thought you had will go to shit
We've got a lot
Don't you dare forget that

And I'm wasted
You can taste it
Don't look at me that way,
'Cause I'll be hanging from a rope
I will haunt you like a ghost

And I'm wasted
You can taste it
Don't look at me that way,
'Cause I'll be hanging from a rope
I will haunt you like a ghost

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): RICHARD CHARLES EDWARDS