Going down a dirty inner city side road
I plotted
Madness passed me by
she smiled hi
I nodded
Looked up as the sky began to cry
She shot it
Met a girl from Dearborn
early six o'clock this morning
A cold fact
Asked about her bag
suburbia's such a drag
Won't go back
'Cos Papa don't allow
no new ideas here
And now he sees the news
but the picture's not too clear
Mama Papa stop
Treasure what you got
Soon you may be caught
Without it
The curfew's set for eight
Will it ever all be straight
I doubt it
7 jealous fools playing by her rules
Can't believe her
He feels so in between
can't break the scene
It would grieve her
And that's the reason why he must cry
He'll never leave her
Crooked children yellow chalk
writing on the concrete walk
Their King died
Drinking from a Judas cup
looking down but seeing up
Sweet red wine
'Cos Papa don't allow
no new ideas here
And now you hear the music
but the words don't sound too clear
Mama Papa stop
Treasure what you got
Soon you may be caught
Without it
The curfew's set for eight
Will it ever all be straight
I doubt it
Going down a dusty Georgian side road
I wonder
The wind splashed in my face
can smell a trace
Of thunder