Beautiful girls staggering back home While dawn slithers over cobblestones Twirling on twine rows of salted swine Hovering above rubber gloves, puddles of reflected light Skyscrapers tear an aerial scar Where the clouds are born from cars Constellations of movies stars Now heaven isn't very far
In the window mannequins begin to itch and wish That they could know the temperature of snow In the gutter flutter pigeons and pages of porn Where there once roamed unicorns Down the yellow brick road All the homeless scarecrows Pimps and witches know Red shoes won't get you home
Newspapers screaming like seagulls At the coffee shop cannibals Red lips howling at a mirror ball It's the eclipse of the last call
