From the gullies of Atlanta
To the plains states, where we pray
I can measure all the distance
By the way she says my name

[Chorus]
She gets solace holdin' on to me
She gets soulless holdin' on to me

It gets dark along the road at night
With freeways passin' by
It gets dark and cold and full of sighs
Up above you in the sky

[Chorus]

We make the constellations out of her beauty marks
We make the constellations out of the falling stars
We make the constellations out of her beauty marks
We make the constellations out of the falling stars

Beg. [repeating]
Pray. [repeating]

Beg / prey [repeating]