Once you've left a lonely rage on its own It grows And dynamite stuffed in a mailbox doesn't smoke Until it blows And, oh, all the tears in four tiny years Well, look at me, I'm frightening my friends You better roll me I bought a map of the moon There's a crater with my name on it and a really good view There I was, getting drunk in your room Because I wanted to throw my weight around And, oh, all the tears in four tiny years Well, look at me, I'm frightening my friends You better roll me home You better roll me home You better roll me home