Lyrics:

Going down a dirty inner city side road I plottedMadness passed me by, she smiled hiI noddedLooked up as the sky began to cryShe shot it.Met a girl from Dearborn, early six o''clock this mornA cold factAsked about her bag, suburbia''s such a dragWon''t go back''Cos Papa don''t allow no new ideas hereAnd now he sees the news, but the picture''s not too clear.Mama, Papa, stop Treasure what you gotSoon you may be caughtWithout itThe curfew''s set for eightWill it ever all be straightI doubt it.7 jealous fools playing by her rules Can''t believe her He feels so in between, can''t break the scene It would grieve her And that''s the reason why he must cryHe''ll never leave her. Crooked children, yellow chalkwriting on the concrete walk Their King died Drinking from a Judas cup, looking down but seeing up Sweet red wine''Cos Papa don''t allow no new ideas here And now you hear the musicbut the words don''t sound too clear.Mama, Papa, stop Treasure what you gotSoon you may be caughtWithout itThe curfew''s set for eightWill it ever all be straightI doubt it.Going down a dusty, Georgian side roadI wonderThe wind splashed in my facecan smell a traceOf thunder.