Wreckin' Bar

Pretty girl, wreckin' bar*
Ra ra ra ra yeah you are!
Growin' up, I’m twice the man
Yeah yeah yeah yeah, yeah I am!
The angels gave F. Scott Fitzgerald
The evening news and the morning herald
I know that offer very far
But I found you passed out by the drawer!
«Where you been?» you can say
Hey hey hey hey yeah you may!
That might seem a bit below?
No no no it’s funny though!
Let’s go home I think we oughta
I know you’re your Mother’s daughter
Well brought up; royal blue
I haven’t got the time for you!
English boy named, presupposing
Watch out, man, that door’s a-closing
This is what you get when you turn your back
A clear blue sky turning dirty black!