Once you’ve left a lonely rage on it’s own it grows
And dynamite stuffed in a mailbox doesn’t smoke until it blows
And oh, all the tears in four tiny years
Well look at me, I’m frightening my friends
You better roll me
I bought a map of the moon
There’s a crater with my name on it and a really good view
There I was getting drunk in your room
Because I wanted to throw my weight around
And oh, all the tears in four tiny years well look at me, I’m frightening my friends
You better roll me home
You better roll me home
You better roll me home |
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