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I'm wandering the lower east side |
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Where all the streets have stories |
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My feet play the role of a folk singer strummin' the streets like guitar strings |
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I had angels in my ears singing my own memories back to me as if |
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I forgot. |
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These streets blend to one |
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Like the days of, the last few months. <i>[x2] |
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I met you where |
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I knew you'd be |
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Inside the wallgreens on 22nd street |
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You still had sleep in your hair so |
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I brushed it out |
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Using the same hand that connects the dots |
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To your beauty marks, yeah. |
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Like a constellation of stars |
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Using your body as the universe. <i>[x2] |
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Now it's all coming back |
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Hitting as hard as a heart attack |
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I realize the beauty that you are |
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But I'll keep it wrapped inside my skin. |
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It's a sin that |
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I can't touch your neck |
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Or bring your lips to mine. |
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Right now you've lost your valor you're losing face, you're falling from |
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The pedestal that |
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I've held oh so high for you. |
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Yeah. <i>[x2] |
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These streets blend to one |
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Like the days of, the last few months. <i>[x2] |
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It's a sin that |
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I can't touch your neck |
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Or bring your lips to mine. |
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Right now you've lost your valor you're losing face, you're falling from |
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The pedestal that |
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I've held oh so high for you. |
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Yeah. <i>[x2] |
