Carry a Torch

Girls! Girls! The city is sick!

God only knows if we'll make it through this

There's beds on top of ambulances

A place where you sleep

You're nauseous from the bleach that you need to soak your sheets

Your lipstick's pretty crude across the mask over your mouth

But I warn you in the memory of your lips underneath:

Carry a torch and trust the wrench but get out! Get out! Get out!

Girls! Girls! The city is sick!

I know you're more unhealthy than you care to admit

When the city is embracing you, you can't feel anything else

You're more familiar with the streets than you are with yourself

Your name is engraved in the frames of every house

But I warn you because you never meant to stay:

Carry a torch and trust the wrench but get out! Get out! Get out!

All the doctors and the architects wash their hands

What would you expect?

Your ears can hear the choirs sing

The death of their important things

And every note a call to end

Anatomies and atlases

The simple maps, they help advise

They comprise and compromise

The place we are when we stand still

The space we feel, the urge to fill

Girls! Girls! The city is sick!

There's bruises on your tongue cuz you don't know when to quit

There's blood stitched in your skirt that won't wash off in the lake

And glass in your teeth so that you know when you're awake

If you're gonna keep together, you're gonna have to move quick

I only warn you cuz I knew you before you were sick:

Carry a torch and trust the wrench but get out! Get out! Get out!