man it gets me down, really gets right to me here comes nobody with nothing for me all the nightly dialog spoken like characters in a bad movie
every night just hanging around here two is down to one all the proof i need is the numbers and two is down to one
in the vinyl booths, in the patent leather pull your head out of the past, pull yourself together grow out your straw colored hair ‘til it flows through fields of Nowhere, USA
every night just hanging around here two is down to one all the proof i need is the numbers and two is down to one
the kind-hearted kind, it’s hard to imagine they were ever here and why would they be? the neon sign through the window advertising beer next one’s on me
there’s no working here from behind the eight ball and you can’t wake from a dream where you only free-fall the truest thing i ever heard: the biggest city in the world is a shit-hole town
every night just hanging around here two is down to one all the proof i need is the numbers and two is down to one