I turned on the heater in your car And watched the glass defrost There's an empty can of beer in the console I hope we don't get lost Driving on Scarborough Street Feels good to get off my feet for once And I don't want your pity You know I hate feeling small And like a dog I run to you When you beckon or call I tidied up your room Put flowers in the vase You tucked away my hair To better frame my face Driving down Scarborough Street Woke up tangled in sheets again So high on Scarborough Street Maybe we should start to head home Oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh You are six feet tall and strong and capable I am made of glass I've had many things to say to you forever But those too shall pass Driving on Scarborough Street No place in heaven for people like me And I don't want your pity You know I hate feeling small Like a dog I run to you When you beckon or call I tidied up your room Put flowers in the vase You tucked away my hair To better frame my face Driving down Scarborough Street Woke up tangled in sheets again So high on Scarborough Street Maybe we should start to head home Oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh