Good Times

Good times coming back again
I seen them touch down on the runway
I seen that old face staring back, pressed against the glass
I heard a brass band wailing
Middleman got caught out of his skin
It’s on a bus across the boarder
He’s got legs spread, head cracked, his hands against the wall
He says, '"I'm just a fucking reporter!!"
Good times coming back again
I heard the girl upstairs singing
She sang all night
I turned the stereo on
I went out for the evening
I couldn’t get that song out of my mind
Good times coming back
I seen them
On the shoulder with their hood up
Through a vaselined lens
They got their bags packed tight
The key to every city
I heard they’re bringing all of their friends
There’s something dead out in the field behind our house
The wind’s changing direction
I seen the local man dressing up in the latest style
He says,"It's only natural selection…"
Good times coming back again