You're riding me home,
And I'm perched on your handlebars.
The whiskey buzz,
It drives us over all the worn out stars.
I play rough,
But when I say "goodnight" it really means,
Just come up,
We can end this in the morning.
What ever happened to the ladies of the silver screen?
We up and died,
With your cinematic chivalry.
I saw the ghost of Clara Bow,
In the reflection of your tired old routine.
But let's just cut that scene.
Let's just cut that scene and burn the reel.
I get what I want,
And your my instant gratification.
Similar thoughts,
Have robbed the good girls of their patience.
I'm standing at this pay phone,
Waiting on a gypsy who said you would ring,
If I counted to four.
But I can't hold my fire so
1-2-3-4 Ohhhh
What ever happened to the ladies of the silver screen?
We up and died,
With your cinematic chivalry.
I saw the ghost of Clara Bow,
In the reflection of your tired old routine.
But let's just cut that scene.
Let's just cut that scene and burn the reel.
I set fire,
I set fire to your projection machine.
(Kill the lights)
I set fire,
I set fire to your projection machine.
(Kill the lights)
I set fire,
I set fire,
I set fire.
What ever happened to the ladies of the silver screen?
We up and died,
With your cinematic chivalry.
I saw the ghost of Clara Bow,
In the reflection of your tired old routine.
But let's just cut that scene.
Let's just cut that scene and burn the reel.