Requiem for All the Lonely Teenagers with Passed Out Moms

so many things

she's passed out drunk

i'm seventeen

on the t.v. screen

a preacher sings

glory be to him

i want to invite you home

i want to invite you home

i want to call you on the phone

but it's too late

i know what you're dad would say

he'd say "it's too late to call"

i write you a note

in ball point pen

i left it all in

i slip it to you

in the hallways

in the hallway

i want to ask you home

i want to invite you home

i don't want to be alone anymore

and in the hall

you slipped one back into my palm

it says "i'll never come home with you"

so after all I've been let down

I've been let down

it's nothing new

i can handle it

i can handle it