Turn the lights out, shut the window*
Burn your old clothes - don't use the telephone
Steal the next car, drive to Mexico
Back on the outskirts, past the meadow
This Honda van will take you to anywhere:
It's lower middle-class, but it'll drive you fast
The sirens cried when we saw them come
So we stand here stuck on the border
Its far from hell, yet so close too America
Don't go back, back to the one you love:
There'll be trouble don't go back to the one you love
Girl in the next room, called the doctor
Doctor called the cops and the family
It's hard for a young man to hear his mother cry
She's sitting on the porch
Waiting for the mailman to arrive
Three lines, tucked in a letter
Words so violent almost left me blind
If you go back, back to the one you love
There'll trouble don't go back to the one you love
If Loretta arrives tomorrow
Would you tell her about this song?
So you stole a little money
But then you had to get caught
And now you have to spend your whole life trying to escape from the law
The Busies and the Dibbles are heading round the block
You're looking down the window and you can't resist to draw
You stole a little money, and now you lost it all
What remains is just the same as what remains in the song
There's a nomad in my Mustang, trying to run away from the enemy
On my last stand like a little man, standing face to face with the enemy
There's a nomad in my Mustang, trying to run away from the enemy
On my last stand like a little man, standing face to face with the enemy