The clubs are all closed
  and the ladies are leaving,
  There's nobody nobody knows on the street;
  A few stranded souls standing cold at the station,
  An nowhere to go but to bed and to sleep.
  
  Chorus:
  Lord, would you look at you
  now that you're here, ain't you
  proud of your peers
  and the long way you've come?
  
  All alone, all the way
  on your own, who's to say
  that you've thrown it away for a song?
  Boy, you've sure come a long way from home.
  
  So it's so long to so many so far behind you,
  Fair-weather friends that you no longer know;
  You've still got the same
  lonely songs to remind you
  Of someone you seemed to be so long ago.
  
  Lord, would you look at you
  now that you're here, ain't you
  proud of your peers
  and the long way you've come?
  
  All alone, all the way
  on you own, who's to say
  that you've thrown it away for a song?
  Boy, you've sure come a long way from home.