She is searching for some form of salvation
In the
Needle in my hand
Got a forearm rubber band
Got a golden
Tell the man who repairs the wings for angels
That one
If you could paint her, she'd be a Picasso.
She's
She fell to the mattress
with the grace of an
Cathy's hailing a cab like she's hailing a storm
unto the
We were drunk fools in Paris, stumbling on the sidewalk
While Hollywood sleeps,
A young man is dying
On the concrete
She comes to my bed like a whisper
Slips in the
Pop the cork, a champagne glass
Raise to the future, drink
In the city by the river
a man is standing
Sometimes in the dead of the night,
I’m dreaming that
I found you sitting on a suitcase crying
Beneath my feet,
I
It's a snowy night, the cops shut down the freeway
She's trying to define her faith
like it's some role
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