Pack your bags, put on those rags
Leave everyone behind
Your golden age is over now
It's just a state of mind
Batten down the hatches
There's a twister on the way
That gathers all your hopes and dreams
And breaks them on the waves

I'll never go home again
They won't find me
Hiding in the shadows

The prodigal son killed his virtual Mum
And he sashayed down the hall
His earrings swung to the beat of the young
And his high heels paced the floor
Haunted by the child, the dresses that you dared to wear
Haunted by the knowledge that's what makes the child a man