| Through these city nightmares you’d walk with me
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| And we’d talk of it with idealistic assurance
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| That it wouldn’t tear us apart
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| We’d keep our heads above the blackened water
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| But there’s no room for ideals in this mechanical place
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| And you’re gone now
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| Through a grimy window that I can’t keep clean
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| Through billowing smoke that’s swallowed the sun
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| You’re nowhere to be seen
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| Do you think our desires still burn
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| I guess it was desires that tore us apart
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| There has to be passion
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| A passion for living, surviving
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| And that means detachment
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| Everybody has a weapon to fight you with
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| To beat you with when you are down
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| There were too many defences between us
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| Doubting all the time
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| Fearing all the time
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| Doubting all the time
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| Fearing all the time
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| That like these urban nightmares
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| We’d blacken each other skies
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| When we passed the subways we tried to ignore our fate there
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| Of written threats on endless walls
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| Unjustified crimes carried in stifled calls
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| Would you walk with me now through this pouring rain
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| It used to mingle with our tears then dry the hopes that we left behind
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| It rains even harder now |