So long Mrs. Smith
This spring I think that I should go
I have had enough of this
And this place ain't what it was before

When I was young
Nine-thirty was late enough
And the sky was angel dust
A dead top trio of criminal saints
To worship at Wongs
Would you say that we were wrong?
Would you say that we were wrong?

So long Mrs. Smith
This spring I think that I should go
I have had enough of this
I'm going down to Edison