For a chemical imbalance, you sure know how to ride a train

Your revolution is a deathbed, and the music is your maid

When someone comes a knocking with a needle on a tray

Only your lonesome lies beside you

For you told me not to stay

You are somebody's baby, some mother held you near

No it's not important, they're just pretty words, my dear

There is no distraction that can make me disappear

No there's nothing that won't remind you

I will always be right here.

And you spit the blood back, spit the blood back

Baby, I'm amazed that you're alright

Oh, so long prison boy, I won't be home with you tonight.

We're both very sick, our muscles all worn down

It's as if we are one-hundred—no, I won't still be around

Because I've fallen, yes I've fallen right into the love I found

Long before I reach one-hundred

I'll have fallen to the ground

And for generations

Their romances make us more

It's much less than than ever was before, the chelsea and the floor

Make us stand before the masses like two speakers for the poor

When there was no revolution

Nothing we were fighting for.

And you spit the blood back, spit the blood back

Baby, I'm amazed that you're alright

Oh, so long prison boy, I won't be home

I won't be home

I won't be home with you tonight.

And you can call the service bell

When we stay at the chelsea hotel

And I'll stay out of my own head.

Oh, so long prison boy, I won't be home

I won't be home

I won't be home with you tonight.