She said I want to sleep in the cityThat never wakes up,And revel in nostalgia.
And now it’s no one’s fault but yoursAt the foot of the house of cardsYou thought you’d never get obsessedYou thought the wolves would be impressedAnd you’re a sinking stone.
When she laughs,The heavens hum a stun-gun lullabyThose twinkling vixens with the shining spiral eyesTheir hypnosis goes unnoticed when she’s walking by.
I said a thousand million thingsThat I could never say this morning.
And in all your time aloneCan you hack your mind being riddledWith the wrong memories?And the clean coming will hurt,And you can never get it spotless —When there’s dirt between the dirt.
Life became a spectator sport.