A station left unmanned
Short tempers and
I wear black and you wear tan
Take my ten a day
Buy myself a lay and shoot a fish in a barrel
A carpet, red, rolled out
Like we read about
I could sing and you could shout
Take my ten a day
Tear myself away and let loose with a siren
I dress my wounds again
Write a word to send
Well I could break but you won't bend
Take my ten a day
Fall asleep in the hay and put a curse on the morning
Strategies gone wrong
This is where I belong
Strategies gone wrong
This is where I belong