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Stupid times, dirty night, everyone’s on the runway
Gimme that gimme more, who cares the world is just fucked up
Pour some wine, put it right and don’t think bout tomorrow
She’s gone and me, myself and I will have a lot to talk about, right?
Bright lights, white lines, I’m not into it
I’m lost, punch drunk, who are these peeps?
And all is blur but I’d love to see
This city burning next to me