there is danger in your stride
with your mind on your sleeve
dreaming ‘bout new york or was it paris
across the street going nowhere
born into a room full of strangers
you never looked the other way
the lack of color in everything familiar
was there ever a right move in all this
singing along to the radio songs
about creeps who share the same name
this town with lights inside the tunnel
will never see your face again
your lips are moving, you’re giving it away
too young to die, too old to go back
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