Do you remember when I broke my arm,
When we were leaving for our first tour,
And I fell down the stairs with my guitar?
We were driving in your van,
With a band full of my best friends,
And we turned on the radio and we sang
Punk songs.
We brought some beer back to your house,
Where I fell asleep on your couch,
With your kitten on my chest, purring loud.
You didn't follow me to bed;
You stayed up with your 30-rack,
And I listened from the bedroom as you were trashed
And singing
Punk songs.
And sometimes I wish that I could go back.