Going down a dirty inner city side road
I plotted

The Madness passed me by, she smiled on hi
I nodded

Looked up as the sky began to cry
She shot it.

Met a girl from Dearborn, early six o'clock this morn
A cold fact

Asked about her bag, suburbia's such a drag
Won't go back

'Cos Papa don't allow no new ideas here
And now he sees the news, but the picture's not too clear.

Mama, Papa, stop
Treasure what you got
Soon you may be caught
Without it

The curfew's set for eight
Will it ever all be straight
I doubt it.

Going down a dirty inner city side road
I plotted

The Madness passed me by, she smiled on hi
I nodded, yeah