I turned on the heater in your car
And watched the glass defrost
There's an empty can of beer in the console
I hope we don't get lost
Driving on Scarborough Street
Feels good to get off my feet for once
And I don't want your pity
You know I hate feeling small
And like a dog I run to you
When you beckon or call
I tidied up your room
Put flowers in the vase
You tucked away my hair
To better frame my face
Driving down Scarborough Street
Woke up tangled in sheets again
So high on Scarborough Street
Maybe we should start to head home
Oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh
You are six feet tall and strong and capable
I am made of glass
I've had many things to say to you forever
But those too shall pass
Driving on Scarborough Street
No place in heaven for people like me
And I don't want your pity
You know I hate feeling small
Like a dog I run to you
When you beckon or call
I tidied up your room
Put flowers in the vase
You tucked away my hair
To better frame my face
Driving down Scarborough Street
Woke up tangled in sheets again
So high on Scarborough Street
Maybe we should start to head home
Oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh