| I bet you’re laughing at some joke he told you
|
| With his arm around your sunburnt shoulders
|
| I spent the morning with my face against the window seat
|
| Looking down at all the things that got the best of me
|
| No more late night drives to Boston
|
| No more Cure songs to get lost in
|
| No more taxis, subway tokens
|
| Arms wide open, I’m sky high honey — gone
|
| I take the streetcars around San Francisco
|
| Get winks from the pretty boys down in The Castro
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| Through the turnstiles roll, the Jappy girls and the shabby dolls
|
| I can’t resist myself, I get their names, I never call
|
| No more late night drives to Boston
|
| No more Cure songs to get lost in
|
| No more taxis, subway tokens
|
| Arms wide open, I’m sky high honey — gone
|
| I’m sky high honey
|
| You wait too long, you never leave
|
| And it feels like dying but still your heart beats
|
| No more late night drives to Boston
|
| No more Cure songs to get lost in
|
| No more taxis, subway tokens
|
| Arms wide open, I’m sky high honey — gone
|
| I’m sky high honey — gone |