I opened the fire door to four lips None of which were mine Kissing Tightened my belt around my hips Where your hands were missing And stepped out into the cold Collar high Under the slate grey sky The air was smoking and the streets were dry And I wasn't joking when I said Good Bye Magazine quality men talking on the corner French, no less much less of them then us So why do I feel like something's been rearranged? You know, taken out of context I must seem so strange Killed a cockroach so big It left a puddle of pus on the wall When you and I are lying in bed You don't seem so tall I'm singing now because my tear ducts are too tired And my brain is disconnected but my heart is wired I make such a good statistic Someone should study me now Somebody's got to be interested in how I feel Just 'cause I'm here And I'm real Oh, how I miss Substituting the conclusion to confrontation with a kiss And oh, how I miss Walking up to the edge and jumping in Like I could feel the future on your skin I opened the fire door to four lips None of which were mine Kissing
Send "The Ataris---the Night That The Lights Went Out In Nyc" Ringtone to your Cell
