White Picket Fence - Far West Battlefront

Don’t you fucking look, don’t look at me,

This is not the end, not the way it should be,

But you’re driving me away,

Standing on my heart,

That other bond has ripped us apart,

The bond of cigarettes, parties and credit card bills,

For hotels and motels and puppy-dog pills,

The gleaming light of city scum,

That place you now call home,

That place of just a little fun,

Where the angels of death now roam,

The stranger and their touch,

Is what you long for so much,

But you deserve better my girl,

That white picket fence, the family, the cure,

This broken set of bleeding hearts,

Blinds the bond that sets us apart,

But nothing you can say,

No nothing you can do,

Can take us back to that place where I stood holding hands with you,

But you deserve better my girl,

That white picket fence, the family, the cure,

This broken set of bleeding hearts,

Blinds the bond that sets us apart,

The bond of cigarettes, parties and credit card bills,

You’re standing on my heart,

The stranger and their touch is what you long for so much,

You’re standing on my heart.