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There's a letter at my mother's house
It came with a folded flag
It says right now I'm coming home
In a body bag
It's a pride and a pain that are one and the same
It's a burning cigarette, it's a horrible dream
There's a man in an office who's going through files
And a woman who watches TV
And she doesn't get the jokes
Told by the late night talk show hosts
But for some reason she laughs anyway
There's this soap in my bathroom
And it's all covered in hairs
There's this hope in my brain
And it's all covered in prayers
There's a girl in this town who doesn't know I exist
There's a wounded sense of pride and a pain in my fist
There's twelve empty bottles on this table tonight
There's four lungs on fire and four burning eyes
And something will explode
And someone will cry
And someone will run out
And never turn around
There's a park in the city where I used to go
But now it's covered with fences and cops and light posts
And I'd never go back even if it was the same
But it kills me to know that it's changed
There's these kids who have dreams
And there's these dreams that will grow
Until they get so goddamn big
That they explode
And what's left in the smoke and the falling debris
Is grownups like them and losers like me
And what's left in the smoke and the falling debris
Is grownups like them and losers like me
Grownups like them and losers like me
Grownups like them and losers like me
Tonight let's go walking down Clark Street
And look at the buildings that we've never seen
We'll stop at the bar and pass out on the floor, tomorrow we'll forget everything
And we'll replay these days again
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