| Well you floated in on a helium balloonOut of your fishbowl and into the fire
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| First you sung her praises, drunk on her glow
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| Then you cursed her name when you lost control
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| Well you floated in on a cotton candy cloud
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| Out of your desert and into the flood
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| But the cobblestone mud seeped into your crown
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| Oh, the silent crowd could melt you down
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| I rode in on you into this city
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| I’ll ride out on you if everything falls
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| I rode in on the rhythm of a Greyhound guitar
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| With the pulse being kept by the rain
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| Well I heard your voice as the tiles gave way
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| And the third rail came into view
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| On an upbound round of a downtown train
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| And anyone can take a piece of you
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| And I can’t help but wonder as the faces roll past
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| Did she leave anything behind?
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| I stare for a moment from behind the glass
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| Drowned out by the train engine’s whine
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| I rode in on you into this city
|
| I’ll ride out on you if everything falls
|
| I rode in on the rhythm of a Greyhound guitar
|
| With the pulse being kept by the rain
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| Neon moondust shines in Times Square
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| The pulse of the alleys echoing
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| In a cab going downtown, I am found, New York
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| I rode in on you into this city
|
| I’ll ride out on you if everything falls
|
| I rode in on the rhythm of a Greyhound guitar
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| With the pulse being kept by the rain |