Strip the hero of his skin
And see the freak show within
An attic space in the house of sin
With pompadours and paraffin
She strokes your hair and says with a grin
"Here's the door but don't come in
Come back when you're younger"
Someone asked me, "Why is youth
Wasted on the rude and uncouth
Blinded on cheap vermouth
A would be poet in Duluth
Short on time, long in the tooth
Fantasies of John Wilkes Booth
Come back when you're younger
Come back when you're younger"
She dreams of an older man
Who holds delusions he still can
Deny he's an also-run
Clutching to an empty plan
"Come and sit on my divan
Don't say a word I'm your biggest fan"
Come back when you're younger
Better minds and bigger hearts
Larger scale and cheaper parts
Faded patrons of the arts
High heeled post-operation tarts
Bitter ale and blunted darts
Sliding quickly down the charts
Come back when you're younger
Come back when you're younger
Come back when you're younger