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They mostly came from towns with long French names
They don't know how old I am - They found armour in my belly
Bill Barilko disappeared that summer - He was on a fishing trip
But you got to remember the smarter it gets, the further it's going to go
Ain't got no picture postcards, ain't got no souvenirs - My baby she don't know me when I'm thinking bout those years
2.50 for a hi-ball, and buck and a half for a beer
His tiny knotted heart, well I guess it never worked too good
And piss on all of your background, And piss on all your surroundings
A generation so much dumber than it's parents, Came crashing through the window
This house it has it politics; Over there that's my room, And that's my sister's
She says, 'You're gonna miss me. Wait and you'll see...'
In his Zippo lighter he sees the killer's face - Maybe it's someone standing in a killer's place
When the appearance of conflict, Meets the appearance of force
You're in Russia and a more than a million works of art, Are whisked out to the woods
We don't go to Hell - Memories of us do
Take a look at this photograph, clearly his teeth were bared
Yeah that's awful close, but that's not why
And that's where the hornet stung me, And I had a feverish dream
Don't tell me that they're anti-social; Somehow not anti-social enough
The sky was dull and hypothetical, and falling one cloud at a time
You held my hand and we walked home the long way, You were loosening my grip on Bobby Orr
You didn’t say yes or no neither. You whispered, hurry
I suggest no further use of the two-way radio
Lets swear that we will, get with the times
Where you don't complain, but you still do - And you don't explain, if you want to- explain
This one is for you, And it goes on and on and on
And made one think of yawnin' shores; Gambier-bleached in tomorrow's thorough light
He sang, 'I'll die before I quit', And this guy's the limit
Though you're so real, and you've more youth everyday
I've been interpreted and shrunk - I've been as touchless as a drunk
