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A cherry bomb, you are a mystery |
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Exploded, sparkling quiet nights |
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My teenage heart packed all my misery, baby |
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To fingertips that might ignite |
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And all along you knew my story, didn't you |
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And all night long |
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I carried yours |
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Your blood was mixed wine and robbery, baby |
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And left us always wanting more |
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So don't sing me your songs about the good times |
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Those days are gone and you should just let them go |
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And God help the man who says |
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If you'd have known me when |
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Old haunts are for forgotten ghosts |
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Old haunts are for forgotten ghosts |
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Cherry bomb, your love is surgery |
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Removing what you don't regard |
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And every breath felt like a funeral, baby |
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While you were packing up your car |
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And with the window down |
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I hear your tired mouth |
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You borrowed everything |
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And wore all your old welcomes out |
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And shame on you, my love |
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You sold your youth away |
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Memories are sinking ships |
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That never would be saved |
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So don't sing me your songs about the good times |
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Those days are gone and you should just let them go |
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And God help the man who says |
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If you'd have known me when |
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Old haunts are for forgotten ghosts |
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Old haunts are for forgotten ghosts |
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And shame, shame, shame, shame on you |
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You kept your mind and heart and youth |
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Just like a tomb |
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And shame, shame, shame, shame on you |
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You kept your mind and heart and youth |
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Just like a tomb |
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And don't sing me your songs about the good times |
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Those days are gone and you should just let them go |
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So God help the man who says |
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If you'd have known me when |
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Old haunts are for all those ghosts |
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And don't sing me your songs about the good times |
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Those days are gone and you should just let them go |
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And God help the man who says |
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If you'd have known me when |
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God help the man who says |
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If you'd have known me when |
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God help this man who says |
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My baby, if you'd have known me when |
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Old haunts are all we've ever known |
