|
Alright I'm on |
|
Johnson Avenue in |
|
San Luis Obispo |
|
And I'm five years old or six maybe |
|
And indications that there's something wrong with our new house trip down the wire twice daily |
|
I'm in the living room watching the |
|
Watergate hearings while my stepfather yells at my mother |
|
Launches a glass across the room, straight at her head, and |
|
I dash upstairs to take cover |
|
Lean in close to my little record player on the floor |
|
So this is what the volume knob's for |
|
I listen to dance music |
|
Dance music |
|
Okay so look |
|
I'm seventeen years old |
|
And you're the last best thing |
|
I got going |
|
But then the special secret sickness starts to eat through you |
|
What am I supposed to do? |
|
No way of knowing |
|
So I follow you down your twisting alleyways |
|
Find a few cul-de-sacs of my own |
|
There's only one place this road ever ends up, and |
|
I don't wanna die alone |
|
Let me down, let me down, let me down gently |
|
When the police come to get me |
|
I'm listening to dance music |
|
Dance music |
