Wreckin' Bar (Ra Ra Ra)

Pretty girl, wreckin' bar

Ra, ra, ra, ra, here you are

Blowing up 'bout twice a night

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, here I amThe Angel's Game, F. Scott Fitzgerald

The evening news and the Morning Herald

I know they're not from very far

But les femmes l-bas, c'est pas de joieWhere you been? You can't say?

Hey, hey, hey, hey, yeah, you may

That might seem a bit below

No, no, no, no, it's funny thoughLet's go home, I think we oughta

I know you're your mother's daughter

Well brought up and royal blue

And I haven't got the time for youFinger pointing, presupposing

Watch out, man, the doors are closing

This is what you get when you turn your back

A clear blue sky turning dirty black