| It’s strange here, it’s funny in a way
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| Is it the night air makes it this way
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| 10,000 streets under an orange sky
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| And a million stories in a fully clothed city
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| And i’ve heard every one of them
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| I’ve been every one of them
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| Nobody’s interested anyway
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| This place stinks like Chicago
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| It smells of cabbage and grey water
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| There’s fear round here
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| It steams the place up
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| Seeping out through the cracks and basements
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| But i’m walking out
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| No i’m not afraid
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| The grass is greener on the newest graves
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| When the last jive had been jiven
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| Those left alive just upped and risen
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| From the damp walls and clammy tongues
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| And the quickly cooling sweat of lousy sex
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| Huh?
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| Yeah that’s my number
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| Why don’t you come by some time
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| And you know, dial it up
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| Some day you wonder how these things begin
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| Don’t look, it’ll happen anyway
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| When one thing leads to maybe 5 or 6
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| You eat well, you sleep well, and that’s saying something these days
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| Walking downtown
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| I don’t want to think like this
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| I wanna think like an animal
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| I exist, therefore i’m happy
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| If you come here to look for your world
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| Please leave your muscles with the hat check girl
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| Everybody in the Eyelash Set
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| Start their hearts with whatever’s left
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| That’s the number, say it again
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| You gotta make note of it
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| Some time when you drop by
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| You know, dial it up
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| Walking downtown
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| Sometimes I feel like i’m the first person to set foot in America
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| Who looked around and thought
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| What the fuck is this? |