So I cut my hair to look like Patty Smith
Now I'll sing about women who have sex with men
But for the sake of the clearness of it
I have made you this song
But it's just as a friend

But how long can you give me a reason
To sing about you
Make a thing about you

If you really love music
Then go start a band
Don't just talk about something you don't understand

If you really crave action
Then come start a fight
Don't just go about it the whole of the night

'Cause cocaine makes you so fucking lame
Just as I didn't ask but I'm sure you'll explain
How the motion of paper to skin killed the skin that you're in
Now it's all paper thin
Paper's trickling
Smokе

Well apparently wherе there is smoke you'll find fire
But in your eyes I can't see no passion at all
Just a girl with a cigarette who's one desire
Is to go through this life being fashionably small

Yeah, well Gloria, basically listen to this
All your posturing makes me forget you exist
So pick up all the name's that you dropped
Stop for a minute
Just stop
Hold on

Well darling, the nighttime was made for the young
It's the only thing we can possess
So honey your accent and ready your tongue
And make unholy mess out of your party dress
'Cause the city is beckoning pulses and sirens
The drone of the glow and the hum of the violence
Is singing tomorrow is dead
Gather in all the shades of the red siren song
And the dusk is calling you to arms

Oh the nights welcoming
So let's flirt with some sin
And I'll go home, come clean
And I'll do the right thing by him
Conquer the heat of my wandering eye
'Cause we're humans
We're weak, and we cheat and we lie

Oh but Gloria, show me the weakness in you
For tonight if I breath in will you breathe in too?
'Cause tomorrow will probably be spent in bed
How much more time like this do we have till we're smoke?