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This is the story, of a post modern muse
Internationally minded, with nothing to lose
She was young, hanging out, nobody waiting at home
Her name was passion, she was the enemy of love

Another fading beauty on the sunset strip
x4

When our muse abused, of a few substances
Her reputation was cut into pieces
Watching the sky where the true stars belonged to
She knew if the sun goes down, it goes up too

Another fading beauty on the sunset strip
x4

From a thousand trips into wonderland
She kept on throwing bottles, and an SOS
When she passed out we watched her sleep
Another fading beauty on the Sunset Strip

Another fading beauty on the sunset strip
x4

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