She leaves her parent's house around midnight
Meets her best mate at the shop, buys some cheap wine
And go to space, see the Milky Way
Get away from the teenage everyday cliche pressure
Absent on absinthe dancing, to bad synths
Saturday night ain't about romancing anymore
Just you getting lit in the queue to the dancefloor
Too many blokes are getting heavy
When a girl looks unsteady
Blisters on your bleeding soles
"Here have my boots, I'll walk you home"
He walks her straight up to the front door
Yeah she stumbles on the floor
We all know what happens next
A bit of fun turns to regret
Leave it alone mate, she doesn't want to go home with ya
Home with ya, no
Leave it alone mate, she doesn't want to go home with ya
Home with ya
Leave it alone mate, she doesn't want to go home with ya
Home with ya, no
Leave it alone mate, she doesn't want to go home with ya