| Little faith, follow me
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| I set a fire in a blackberry field
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| Make us laugh, or nothing will
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| I set a fire just to see what it kills
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| Now I’m stuck in New York
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| And the rain’s coming down
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| I don’t feel like we’ll go anywhere
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| Stuck in New York
|
| And the rain’s coming down
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| Still in line for the Vanity Fair
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| Leave our red Southern souls
|
| Head for the coast
|
| Leave our red Southern souls
|
| Everything goes
|
| All our lonely kicks are getting harder to find
|
| We’ll play nuns versus priests until somebody cries
|
| All our lonely kicks that make us saintly and thin
|
| We’ll play nuns versus priests until somebody wins
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| Awesome prince, get your sleep
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| Lose your heart in history
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| Make us laugh or nothing will
|
| I set a fire just to see what it kills
|
| Don’t be bitter, Anna
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| I know how you think
|
| You’re waiting for Radio City to sink
|
| You’ll find commiseration in everyone’s eyes
|
| The storm will suck the pretty girls into the sky
|
| All our lonely kicks are getting harder to find
|
| We’ll play nuns versus priests until somebody cries
|
| All our lonely kicks that make us saintly and thin
|
| We’ll play nuns versus priests until somebody wins
|
| Leave our red Southern souls
|
| Head for the coast
|
| Leave our red Southern souls
|
| Everything goes |