[Storyteller.]

She don’t want nobody near,
but you can't get away from that.
They appear and disappear,
and they all get strings attached.
Pretty soon they've got you hanging on the line;
pretty soon they’re singin’ one by one, the same old rhyme;
they say, "I'm all right, I just can’t get home tonight."

She don't want nobody home,
‘cause it's a little too crowded there.
She don't want to be alone,
so they just keep pourin’ in.
Pretty soon they've got her headed for the door;
She comes home to find that they’re not hangin’ round no more.
She says, "I'm all right, you just can’t get home tonight."
Don’t you wonder what she looks like in the light?
She says “I’m all right, I just can’t get home tonight.”

Pretty whitewashed lies, endless alibis,
and reasons that need cleanin’ every night.
Half a world away, you can't wash away
the stain of her deceivin’
and the things that you could not believe in.

Well, she don't want no one around
'cause she don't want anybody to see
what she looks like when she's down,
‘cause that’s a really sad place to be.
Pretty soon she gets them crawling up the walls,
then she wonders why they beg her please, then never call.
She says, "I'm okay, it's all right, hey, look who’s on TV tonight.”
She says, "I'm all right, I just can't get home tonight."
Don’t you wonder why it’s dark outside at night?
She says “I’m all right, I just can’t get home tonight.”
She says “I’m all right, I just can’t get home tonight."