The End of Margaret Mary
When I was stuck in New York City, Waiting for an aeroplane,
I thought I was flying, Man, I need a shot of novocaine.
But I heard I was jaded and a fiend for bad publicity.
And I heard, when you're hated, it's a sign of pure simplicity.
There's no place like home.
There's no place like home.
There's no place like Kansas City.
Margaret Mary,
You know what this means.
You'll always be a part of me,
But there'll always be
A lifetime on the in-between.