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Another lump of Southern Gothic cheese
Bringing me to my knees
Don't you know you're killing me?
Another drama rapidly unfolds
Quickly taking hold
Does it ever grow old?
I submit that it do
The mansion burns in the distance
And the swell of the strings
As the death knell rings
And Aunt Liza's ghost roams the graveyard
And I'm looking at my watch 'cause I'm so tired
and it's time to go home
I'd like to go home
The decline and the fall
The disgrace of it all
And the thundering comes
From the thundering drums
And my stars, is that the time?
How it does fly!
The sad black moan from the river's edge
And the spanish moss swings
Above the crawl of the night things
And of course, my dear, I would dearly love
To wring the tears from your opera glove
But I've got to go home
I've got to go home
The plantation burns in the distance
So watch the cobwebs fly
As you take a rake
To your ancient moldy old wedding cake
And you polish your silver in solitude
Or just overdose on Quaaludes™ or whatever
And it's all very well but it's late, Blanche, and I've got to go home