Men are like a fine wine. They all start out like grapes, and it's a woman's job to stomp on them and keep them in the dark until they mature into something you'd like to have dinner with.
Hey baby we're gonna leave the ground
Take your shiny car to the outskirts of town
Girl you make me smile,
girl you make me sing
Dirty faced boy running to nowhere
He bends down to fetch the shiney coin
on the street,
on the street
Poverty striken lane broken glass lies every place
watch your step man,
watch your step
Untucked shirt undone lace holey jeans unwashed face
What do you think you'd be if you got out of this place?
Would you still have those dreams would you still run that race
Would you still want that prize would you still untie the lace
of her dress?
of her dress?
Hey baby we're gonna leave the ground
Take your shiney car to where no one is around
Girl you make me beg,
girl you make me laugh
This memory is better than some faded photograph