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it looks like the tide is calling
send off is drawing near
the whistle blowing
the commander's on the phone
i wont know your thoughts when i'm gone
i wont have a lot to say
but i'll be bored of smiling when it ain't at you
and its alright, its alright
its alright, its alright
why you'e my hand-me-down jean
i'm your warranted queen
my mouth on your spoon
goodnight red balloon
you play your cards with a mystery face
and use your golden grace
i'll be sending my guards to come find you
i don't know where to fall
or if this is love at all
but your lips on mine have branded a sign
but its alright, its alright
it's alright, it's alright
you're my hand-me-down jean
i'm your warranted queen
my mouth on your spoon
goodnight red balloon
its alright