| Ah, moonlight
|
| It’s hard to believe it
|
| And it’s harder to need it
|
| But so easily wanted
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| Pretty machines
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| Expensive magazines
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| I’ve been tricked into buying quite a number of things
|
| Yeah, bullshit and dreams
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| Urban ease, it means I always leave taunted
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| And you think you’re a modern person
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| You think that you can ignore
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| Silent isolation, my emancipations
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| In the same place you get yours
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| Oh, whiskey sips are piling while my secrets escaped
|
| In the skyline of hell there are no fire escapes
|
| Punk songs, I thought that they were different
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| And I thought that they could end it
|
| No, no it was a deception
|
| Well, the number of tears
|
| And the number of beers were dried out and accounted
|
| For a number of years
|
| But these days I fear that my window was just a reflection
|
| Still, you think that you’re not a servant
|
| You think that you can avoid
|
| The stylish institution, worshiping illusions
|
| Things you thought you could destroy
|
| Oh, crowded loud and crimson was my view from the pit
|
| I was wild, I was weird, I was shackled to it
|
| One time, it’s so easy the fourth time
|
| But this side of the shoreline, we’ve already recovered
|
| Pretty machines
|
| Expensive routines
|
| Butted and obstructed quite a number of things
|
| Believe me, it’s harder to feel
|
| These days it’s harder to suffer
|
| And you think you’re a modern person
|
| Think you can watch something change
|
| And move on without you
|
| Side by side with doubt you
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| Listen to the world exchange
|
| Oh, conversation starters over various meets
|
| In the skyline of hell where the tired retreat |