| Stumbling down the halls I’m leaving
|
| Fighting with the thought
|
| Of calling you again, I’m calling you again
|
| 4 A.M., the bag is empty
|
| Rising to the fall
|
| Of calling you again, I’m calling you again
|
| Pick up, pick up, pick up the phone
|
| Pick up, pick up, pick up
|
| I’m outta my head
|
| Can’t get you outta my head
|
| And I walk above the drunken sleaze
|
| Don’t sleep, Astoria
|
| We could meet along Lawson Street
|
| Don’t sleep, Astoria
|
| I believe in romance, baby
|
| Come and sink some more
|
| I’m calling you again, I’m calling you again
|
| My polyphonic thoughts of you
|
| Are rotten to the core
|
| I’m calling out again, I messed it up again
|
| Pick up, pick up, pick up the phone
|
| Pick up, pick up, pick up
|
| I’m outta my head
|
| Can’t get you outta my head
|
| And I walk above the drunken sleaze
|
| Don’t sleep, Astoria
|
| We could meet along Lawson Street
|
| Don’t sleep, Astoria
|
| (I'm outta my head)
|
| (Can't get you outta my head)
|
| And I walk above the drunken sleaze
|
| Don’t sleep, Astoria
|
| (Can't get you outta my head)
|
| We could meet along Lawson Street
|
| Don’t sleep, Astoria
|
| I’m outta my head
|
| Can’t get you outta my head
|
| And I walk above the drunken sleaze
|
| Don’t sleep, Astoria
|
| We could meet along Lawson Street
|
| Don’t sleep, Astoria |