| Tonight the lights in the city they don’t burn for you
|
| Tonight there ain’t nothin' left but the bitter truth
|
| When you’re throwing it out there when there’s nowhere to hide
|
| When you smile on the surface while it’s eating you up from the inside
|
| Ten thousand miles, one hundred days
|
| Another post card from another place far away
|
| How many miles and how many days
|
| How many poor substitutes for your pretty face
|
| Tonight the rats and snakes got nowhere to run
|
| Tonight they can’t drink the blood and have their fun
|
| When they take out the cold knife stick it deep in my back
|
| I wish they’d eat all my cancer when I don’t want it back
|
| Ten thousand miles, one hundred days
|
| Another post card from another place far away
|
| How many miles and how many days
|
| How many poor substitutes for your pretty
|
| How many poor substitutes for your pretty
|
| How many poor substitutes for your pretty face
|
| No, now it’s all or nothing
|
| I can’t leave well enough alone
|
| Ten thousand miles, one hundred days
|
| Another post card from another place far away
|
| How many miles and how many days
|
| How many poor substitutes for your pretty face |