Poor Places (The Unified Theory of Everything Version)

It's my father's voice trailing off
Sailors sailing off in the morning
To fight the war
With the air-conditioned rooms
At the top of the stairs
At the head of the table

But it makes no difference to me
How they cried all over overseas
When it's hot in the poor places tonight
I'm not going outside

If there's bourbon on the breath
Of the singer you love so much
He doesn't care
He takes all the words from the books
That you don't read anyway

But it takes all the life out of me
When it's hot in the poor places tonight
I'm not going outside

And it takes all the breath out of me
How they cried all over overseas
And it's hot in the poor places tonight
I'm not going outside
When it's hot in the poor places tonight
I'm not going outside
I'm not going outside