Perfect - Bla, bla, bla

And she’ll run away from home again this summer, like every year
On the highway, she’ll catch some hitchhike
If she’s lucky, some guy will pay for her hotel

She’ll reach the coast in five or six days
Her beloved plays bass, he’s a guitarist
In a band that plays under a big tent

She’s running away from blah, blah, blah
Blah, blah, blah
Blah, blah, blah
Blah – she’s had enough of that

Lonely like James Dean and pale as snow
He grabbed my sleeve and whispered something low
I remembered it well, ‘cause every word hit like a knockout

He said he’s impatient, like a bullet in a gun
‘Cause he finally found a target, and in my heart, someone
Someday will place it there, some new Humphrey Bogart

Someone will say blah, blah, blah
Blah, blah, blah
Blah, blah, blah
Blah – and it makes no sense

It’ll probably happen to every other one of you
In 18 years, you’ll have children too
Make time for them and always try to understand

No point in slaps, a whip, or a cane
Unless you want them to turn into a thug or insane
Give your child what you’re missing today

Not just blah, blah, blah
Blah, blah, blah
Blah, blah, blah
Blah – from the youngest days

Blah, blah, blah
Blah, blah, blah
Blah, blah, blah
Blah – all day long

Blah, blah, blah
Blah, blah, blah
Blah, blah, blah
Blah – just no heart at all