| Song | Berlin |
| Artist | Amanda Palmer |
| Album | Theatre Is Evil |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Your bicycle's chained to the fence outside | |
| There's plenty of offers, but you won't ride | |
| How you pedal in those is a miracle | |
| A miracle | |
| And you laugh at yourself | |
| As you speed through the red lights | |
| Oh, Berlin | |
| Nobody knows where you've been | |
| In the space where your brain and your heart collide | |
| You're convinced there's a practical place that you can hide | |
| And you laugh at the bellhop | |
| Hysterical | |
| Hysterical | |
| With your bag full of dresses and butcher's knives | |
| Oh, Berlin | |
| Nobody knows where you've been | |
| But they all look so ugly and mean when you're sober | |
| You've auctioned away all your crimson and clover | |
| And Ronny leaves lines out and lights up the curtain | |
| You know what you're doing, you know it for certain | |
| The last thing | |
| I saw, they were reading your rights | |
| If you're gonna go down, then you're going down fighting | |
| As long as you're bent | |
| And as long as they're watching | |
| You're gonna make rent | |
| You got no other option | |
| What? Did you think you were worth my while? | |
| Did you think | |
| I would cramp my style? | |
| That if I had a say in it | |
| That I'd sit here and bite my lip and listen | |
| What? What? | |
| Do you think that | |
| I come off bored? | |
| Paid a fortune to be ignored? | |
| Did you think that | |
| I come here out of the goodness of my own heart | |
| To work on an assembly line of broken hearts? | |
| Not supposed to fix them, only strip and sell the parts | |
| It’s hard to work | |
| On an assembly line of broken hearts | |
| Not supposed to fix them, only strip and sell the parts | |
| Your bicycle's chained to the fence outside | |
| There's plenty of offers, but you won't ride | |
| How you pedal in those is a miracle | |
| A miracle | |
| And you laugh at yourself | |
| As you speed through the red lights |
| Your bicycle' s chained to the fence outside | |
| There' s plenty of offers, but you won' t ride | |
| How you pedal in those is a miracle | |
| A miracle | |
| And you laugh at yourself | |
| As you speed through the red lights | |
| Oh, Berlin | |
| Nobody knows where you' ve been | |
| In the space where your brain and your heart collide | |
| You' re convinced there' s a practical place that you can hide | |
| And you laugh at the bellhop | |
| Hysterical | |
| Hysterical | |
| With your bag full of dresses and butcher' s knives | |
| Oh, Berlin | |
| Nobody knows where you' ve been | |
| But they all look so ugly and mean when you' re sober | |
| You' ve auctioned away all your crimson and clover | |
| And Ronny leaves lines out and lights up the curtain | |
| You know what you' re doing, you know it for certain | |
| The last thing | |
| I saw, they were reading your rights | |
| If you' re gonna go down, then you' re going down fighting | |
| As long as you' re bent | |
| And as long as they' re watching | |
| You' re gonna make rent | |
| You got no other option | |
| What? Did you think you were worth my while? | |
| Did you think | |
| I would cramp my style? | |
| That if I had a say in it | |
| That I' d sit here and bite my lip and listen | |
| What? What? | |
| Do you think that | |
| I come off bored? | |
| Paid a fortune to be ignored? | |
| Did you think that | |
| I come here out of the goodness of my own heart | |
| To work on an assembly line of broken hearts? | |
| Not supposed to fix them, only strip and sell the parts | |
| It' s hard to work | |
| On an assembly line of broken hearts | |
| Not supposed to fix them, only strip and sell the parts | |
| Your bicycle' s chained to the fence outside | |
| There' s plenty of offers, but you won' t ride | |
| How you pedal in those is a miracle | |
| A miracle | |
| And you laugh at yourself | |
| As you speed through the red lights |
| Your bicycle' s chained to the fence outside | |
| There' s plenty of offers, but you won' t ride | |
| How you pedal in those is a miracle | |
| A miracle | |
| And you laugh at yourself | |
| As you speed through the red lights | |
| Oh, Berlin | |
| Nobody knows where you' ve been | |
| In the space where your brain and your heart collide | |
| You' re convinced there' s a practical place that you can hide | |
| And you laugh at the bellhop | |
| Hysterical | |
| Hysterical | |
| With your bag full of dresses and butcher' s knives | |
| Oh, Berlin | |
| Nobody knows where you' ve been | |
| But they all look so ugly and mean when you' re sober | |
| You' ve auctioned away all your crimson and clover | |
| And Ronny leaves lines out and lights up the curtain | |
| You know what you' re doing, you know it for certain | |
| The last thing | |
| I saw, they were reading your rights | |
| If you' re gonna go down, then you' re going down fighting | |
| As long as you' re bent | |
| And as long as they' re watching | |
| You' re gonna make rent | |
| You got no other option | |
| What? Did you think you were worth my while? | |
| Did you think | |
| I would cramp my style? | |
| That if I had a say in it | |
| That I' d sit here and bite my lip and listen | |
| What? What? | |
| Do you think that | |
| I come off bored? | |
| Paid a fortune to be ignored? | |
| Did you think that | |
| I come here out of the goodness of my own heart | |
| To work on an assembly line of broken hearts? | |
| Not supposed to fix them, only strip and sell the parts | |
| It' s hard to work | |
| On an assembly line of broken hearts | |
| Not supposed to fix them, only strip and sell the parts | |
| Your bicycle' s chained to the fence outside | |
| There' s plenty of offers, but you won' t ride | |
| How you pedal in those is a miracle | |
| A miracle | |
| And you laugh at yourself | |
| As you speed through the red lights |