They're smoking in the garden over there
Some pretty girl is crying on the stairs
Her heart is broken, they don't seem to mind
Cause they know in the morning she'll be fine
He took her heart and kicked it round a bit
He ripped at it so hard it almost split
And now he's gone and she's a walking mess
Her tears dripping onto her new dress
The cupboard is devoid of alcohol
Her stomach, on the other hand, is full
Of vodka, champagne, even rum and gin
It's all far too much for her to take in
Let's face it: we're just young and wild and dumb
And sometimes our life isn't all just fun
Our souls are quite screwed up, to be quite blunt
But we'll call it love if we really want
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