Dinner At Eight

No matter how strong

I'm going to take you down with one little stone

I'm going to break you down and see what you're worth

What you're really worth to me

Dinner at eight was o.k. before the toasts full of gleams

It was great until those old magazines

Got us started up again

Actually it was probably me again

But why is it so

That I've always been the one who must go

That I've always been the one told to flee

When in fact you were the one

Long ago, actually in the drifting white snow

Who left me?

So put up your fists and I'll put up mine

No running away from the scene of the crime

God's chosen a place

Somewhere near the end of the world

Somewhere near the end of our lives

But till then no daddy don't be surprised

If I want to see the tears in your eyes

Then I know it had to be

Long ago, actually in the drifting white snow

You loved me