You, you don't belong In this prison-like hospital But I feel so responsible And I know you feel ashamed Just show me what you started with, that blade
Brought you some clean clothes A calling card for the payphone Magazines, headphones, CDs, To grant you a distraction Cause I know there's no one here to take you home
You'll be alright My sound advice Just hope you know We are done It's time to move on
Losing your voice in the crowded streets Pulsing crunch of machinery Oh so harsh frequency In the city that we love
We love, we love, we love, love
Paint chipped and scraped Evidence of forced entry Red with disgust, violated Remind me why I love Living in this city I call home
Passenger's side, left open wide Glass scattered about Broken along with my optimism
Losing your voice in the crowded streets Pulsing crunch of machinery The oh so harsh frequency In the city that we love
We love, we love, we love, love
None of your schemes work on me Smoke signals are jokes to see The smell sticks to your clothes It's on everything I own
Like the rain that seeps through the cracks in my rubber soul Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.