Is it all so very simple

And horribly complex?

You're suffering a thimble and

There's nothings coming next.

Your mom smokes in the kitchen.

Her voice a cutting drone.

They're creeping out.

You've passed the bar,

Your father's second home

That leaves you on your own.

Nights I'd often watch you

Float across the grounds

Out the gate

To the motorway.

What secrets have you found?

You had to know I wanted

Something from you then.

Too young to know just what it was,

Something more than a friend.

Is that you at the end?

Where you play

In the street at night

And blow like a broken kite.

My girl, you've given up the fight.

Are you going to let these Americans

Put another dent in your life?

My mother says you're dirty,

They're going to find you dead,

But have you got that final chapter

Writen in your head?

‘Cause every single story

Is a story about love.

Hope the overflowing cup

And the painful lack there of.

You've got the heart of a dove,

But you play

In the street at night

(in the street out at night)

And blow just like a broken kite.

(the broken kite)

My girl, you've given up the fight.

(given up the fight)

You have to lose these childish notions

If you're going to let these American boys

Put another dent in your life.

You play

In the street at night

(in the street out at night)

And blow just like a broken kite.

(the broken kite)

My girl, you've given up the fight.

(given up the fight)

You have to lose these childish notions.

Are you going to let these Americans

Put another dent in your life?