[Verse 1: Swing-era female lead, big and bright over the driving swing drums] Thirty years of envelopes on the first of the month Thirty years of stamps, and I'm skippin' my lunch Paid it through the layoff, paid it through the flood Paid it when the basement was a foot of mud Paid it through two husbands and a dog named Lou Paid it when the hail came down and the roof went too Then the girl at the bank slid a paper through Said, "Ma'am, that was the last one," and the ink was blue So I hired fourteen pieces from the union hall Put the bandstand on the lawn by the garden wall [Chorus: Swing-era female lead] Bring the horns, bring a match, bring your dancin' shoes Thirty years of envelopes, I paid every due Hold the paper to the candle, let the bankers frown This house is mine tonight, so burn it down [Verse 2: Swing-era female lead, the trumpets punchin' every line] Got a red dress on and the heels I hid Got a punch bowl spiked like I'm still a kid Mister Kowalski next door, he complained for years Now he's doin' the Lindy and he's shiftin' his gears Trombones on the hedges, sax up on the swing Drummer on the patio hittin' everything Little grandkids spinnin' on the driveway slab Neighbors in their bathrobes wavin' down a cab Every light on the block and the band don't quit Thirty years I waited, and I'm worth every bit [Chorus: Swing-era female lead] Bring the horns, bring a match, bring your dancin' shoes Thirty years of envelopes, I paid every due Hold the paper to the candle, let the bankers frown This house is mine tonight, so burn it down [Verse 3: Swing-era female lead, faster, ridin' the walking bass] Midnight, and I hold it up for everyone to see Thirty years of their name sittin' over me Touch it to the candle and it curls up black Drop it in the punch bowl and I'm never goin' back Smoke goes up and somebody down the street Calls the fire department in his bedroom feet Here comes the engine with the siren on Six big firemen standin' on my lawn Captain sees the ashes and he sees the band And he takes off his helmet and he takes my hand [Shout Chorus: Swing-era female lead rides over the full horn section] Burn it, baby, burn it, every page and every line Burn it, baby, burn it, every brick of it is mine [Chorus: Swing-era female lead, last time, the whole band roarin'] Bring the horns, bring a match, bring your dancin' shoes Thirty years of envelopes, I paid every due Hold the paper to the candle, let the bankers frown This house is mine tonight, so burn it down [End]
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