So with finger rolls and folding chairs And a volley of streamers, We can be there for tweaks and repairs, Should you come back home, We got open arms for broken hearts, Like yours my boy, come home again, Tables are for pounding here And when we've got you surrounded, The man you are will know the boy you were And you're not the man who fell to earth, You're the man of La Mancha And we've love enough to light the street 'Cause everybody's here, We got open arms for broken hearts, Like yours my boy, come home again, We got open arms for broken hearts, Like yours my boy, come home again, Everyone's here, Everyone's here, The moon is out looking for trouble And everyone's here, Everyone's here, Everyone's here....
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