Flown out from the window
Flown out from the green
A match to any ceiling
Voices from the flame

In the long run

So long at pretending
I was once your boy
Ships out on the landing
Faces you'll avoid

In the long run

Everybody want to be some somebody
Dont you want somebody for your own

Down to the road
Clover and gold
It's your own hand to hold

Staring me down
Swallowing sound
Its your own hand to hold