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's 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

Oh look at me
I'm frightening my friends

You better roll me home

You better roll me home

You better roll me home