Текст: Peter Cincotti. East Of Angel Town. Broken Children.

Who's that face on today?s front page
Sticking to my shoe
Empty eyes and a real good smile
That's all it takes to sell the news

She got her name on Gotham's tongue
But Mama Fame she eats her young
And half a buck ain't half the price you pay

When you got broken children
Shot in black and white
Chasing wasted lives
And they can't wait to go there

Daddy's money
Bought a first class seat
And they all just fly away
On a jet plane to nowhere
On a jet plane to nowhere

Well, I'm at a house party at the Taj Mahal
The portrait hanging on the wall
Has got too much wine in her head

And she gets too close and grabs my face
And says if you like this place
Well, then you ought to see my bed

She gives an order to the staff
Looks up for the photograph
It's hard to know if you should laugh or cry

When you got broken children
Shot in black and white
Chasing wasted lives
And they can't wait to go there

Daddy's money
Bought a first class seat
And they all just fly away
On a jet plane to nowhere

The Hamptons is a summer dream
Where little kings chase little queens
They eat it up like hungry wolverines

And it looks like
The fabric of their life is sewn tight
But it's ripping at the seams

Oh, broken children
Shot in black and white
Chasing wasted lives
And they can't wait to go there

Daddy's money
Bought a first class seat
And they all just fly away
On a jet plane to nowhere

Oh, on a jet plane to nowhere
Oh, on a jet plane to nowhere