(Butch Walker and Chrystina Lloree)

Make no mistake, I’ve spent hours and days,
Just to find whose responsible for this mess.
I’ve walked around for hours, getting’ bitten’ by the spiders.
And the snakes are crawlin’ over my chest.

On the front lawns of America the papers they all read,
Gas prices are rising high and Superman is dead.

As I opened the door and looked at my mother,
Even Stovetop stuffing ain’t gonna change my mind.
I’ll talk to you tomorrow or maybe next Sunday depending on what I find.

On the front lawns of America the papers they all read,
Your kids are on heroin and Superman is dead.

Maybe it’s time I start looking for another.
And pretend a new hero is always going to save the day.
So when I feel like I’m falling off another tall building,
There’ll be someone there to catch me faster than a speeding train.

On the front lawn of America the papers they all read,
California is sinking and Superman is dead.

On the front lawns of America the papers they all read,
The psychic network is saving our souls and Superman is dead.
On the front lawns of America the papers they all read,
Your kids are on heroin and Superman is dead.