| In the nicotine glare of a cold naked light
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| I drag my body from the covers and down forty flights
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| I run out the front door into the center of the street
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| I scream out your name as the steam just swells around my feet
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| I hear you after midnight from the inner city
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| As every Cinderella turns to drop dead pretty
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| We were built out of the darkness into this West Side Story
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| We came together in the shadows but the moon just steals our glory
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| Well this is my battleground baby
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| This is my plaything
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| The only thing I’ve ever known
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| Outside of a wedding ring
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| And I swear I heard the night talking
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| Cursing me for being a little more than hopeless
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| Telling me we’re running lonely, loose and broken
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| Stronger now on passion but haven’t we really spoken
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| And all we ever do is listen to the night talking
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| On the burden of insanity we can’t find the cause
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| On a flatbed truck well the home girl she paints her claws
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| There’s a coward who gets his courage undercover of the dark
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| And it’s a strange breed of devil freeze at night to go walking in the park |