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 feetTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
