All the other girls here are stars-you are the Northern Lights.
They try to shine in through your curtains-you're too close and too bright.
They try and they try but everything that they do
Is the ghost of a trace of a pale imitation of you.
I'll be the one to drive you back home, Kathleen.

This party was made with the night air and the chance that a smile
Will wind it's way from your face to one of the boys in your line.
You act like you're hip to their tricks and you're strong,
But a virgin Wurlitzer heart never once had a song.
I'll be the one to drive you back home, Kathleen.

And I'll have you back by break of day,
I'm going your way anyway.
And if you'd like to come along,
I'll be yours for a song.

I know you are waiting and I know that it is not for me,
But I'm here and I'm ready and I saved you the passenger seat.
And I won't be your last dance, just your last good night.
Every heart is a package tangled up in knots someone else tied.
I'll be the one to drive you back home, Kathleen.

So crawl up your trellis and quietly back into your room,
And I'll coast down the length of your drive by the light of the moon.
And the next time we meet-a new kind of hello,
Both our hearts have a secret only both of us know,
'bout the night that I drove you back home Kathleen.

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