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We gave the cities to the women |
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We thought it was the least that we could do |
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We were under the impression that freedom |
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Was more than just the freedom |
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To wipe shit off of your shoe |
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And we talked about the way that people are |
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As we drive towards Salt Lake |
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Away from a lake of fire, we say |
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How could they not have known! |
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How could they not have known! |
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Until we drive fifty miles too far |
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And we will find a spot in the sun |
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Where we will let our hearts run wild |
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They will come back late |
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They will come back black |
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But then we'll hear black is back in style |
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Said they will come back broken |
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They will come back black |
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But then we'll hear that black is back in style |
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And we'll be the last to know |
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We'll be the last to know |
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We'll be the last to know |
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That black is back in style |
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We'll be the last to know |
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We'll be the last to know |
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We'll be the last to know |
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That black is back in style |
