You’ve got nowhere to go but up
To where you’ll dine with foreign kings
You can’t forget about our tryst
And all those other fleeting things

And will they train you like a dog
And will they walk you down my streets
The wind will whistle our old songs
The ones I’ll always keep

You’ve got nowhere to go
Whoa whoa
Nowhere to go
Whoa whoa
Nowhere to go
Whoa whoa
Nowhere to go
Whoa whoa

I’ve got a bone to pick with you
About the argument we had
The day you got into that cab
And said my world is in your past

There must be something wrong with me 
My mind is just a sickly little alibi
And why am I surprised
You’re giving up on me
Goodbye
The words you’re wielding like a knife