Your bridges burn so very brightnRetina burn in the clear black nightnnSay “when”nnYour bridges burn so very brightnPedal to the metal, hold on tightnnSay “when”nnThe lawns that looked so green from across the waynHave been scorched brownnDon’t look downnnNostalgia chokes you as you sing the old refrainnCan’t stand the soundnDon’t look downnnIt gnaws at your skullnYour senses dullnIt sears your throatnAlways gets your vote