Tramps like us...

There were ghosts in the eyes of all the boys you sent away They haunt this dusty beach road in the skeleton frames of burned out Chevrolets They scream your name at night in the street Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet And in the lonely cool before dawn you hear their engines roaring on But when you get to the porch they're gone on the wind, so Mary climb in It's a town full of losers and I'm pulling out of here to win.