Size / / /
Out in the suburbs on Saturday night
The workaday Batman gets drunk and starts fights
Costume too tight around midriff and ass
The Batmobile running on unleaded gas
Batts has been living out of the back seat
Since Missus Batman threw him into the street
The Batdoor no longer accepts the Batkey
The Batcredit card's maxed out permanently
The Batkids are staying with BatNan and Pop
The beers keep on coming and no-one says stop
Once a hero to someone, there's none left to ask,
And failure's invisible under a mask
But with each tilt of beer glass we see plain old Bruce:
Middle aged; hopes forgotten; expecting abuse
And when the bar's closed and we're facing the dawn,
Batman of suburbia passes out on the lawn