The central boys landed safely
In the arms of the Irish girls
While the hometown lots ready their nooses and their knots
Hang their preconceptions on
While the political lions and tigers and bears
Decided which of the cubs they'd be crucifying
And who'll take the fall at the end of it all
They'll just say it was Italian lightning

Now Mary she wakes up vacant
From them long nights with the fashionistas
Who were deadly as strangers and lovely as angels
And always just dying to meet ya
My country what have you done to your girls?
The devil at the details or something a bit more exciting
And you can find them at the mirrors and on the weights of the scales
Blame it all on Italian lightning

Now me I just stick to the boardwalk
Driving up and down these Avenues
I found some work on LaRainne
Thanks to little Irish Grace
I was hard up and home for the season
I was walking last night with Miss Mary
We saw the flames shooting right out of them buildings
Maybe it was time, maybe it was despair
That got up in the soul of that city

Since the Ferris wheels don't spin and the casino's caving in
Maybe she never healed from the riots or the fighting
But I heard ya, Wiggs, quoting Davish saying
"Maybe it was just Italian lightning, probably Italian lightning"