Once you've left a lonely rage on its own, it grows

And dynamite stuffed in a mailbox doesn't smoke until it blows

And, oh, all the tears in four tiny years

Well, look at me, I'm frightening my friends

You better roll me...



I bought a map of the moon

There was a crater with my name on it and a really good view

There I was, getting drunk in your room

Because I wanted to throw my weight around



And, oh, all the tears in four tiny years

Well, look at me, I'm frightening my friends

You better roll me home

You better roll me home

You better roll me home