I was running out of trouble   You were running out of fame   Streets smelled like the desert   As they were putting out the flames      And Chelsea burns   Chelsea burns under my feet      Twenty-third was empty   I heard somebody yell   A straight-laced passerby?s   Pulled over the hotel      And Chelsea burns   Chelsea burns under my feet      Whether we were lost or overwhelmed   Nobody knows that I?m better off   Making up lies to be left alone      And Chelsea burns   Chelsea burns under my feet      I was running out of trouble   You were running out of fame   I?m streets ahead of happiness   Still wondering who to blame      Chelsea burns   Chelsea burns under my feet