Driving through the long night. Trying to figure who's right and who's wrong. Now the kid is gone. I sit belted up tight. She pulls on a match light glowing bronze.
Pat is the guy with a record shop. and John sells fruit but wants to be a cop. and Paul deals speed in a celtic top. but I'm just a drunk in a band. Joe does tele-sales and martial arts.
Driving through the long night trying to figure. Who's right and who's wrong, now the kid has gone. I sit belted up tight, she sucks on a match light.
So long, go on and do your best. Let all France have whiskey on it's breath. The world may not be shaking yet. But you might prove them wrong. Even long shots make it.