Fucking lights, straining my eyes.
No sleep at night. It's just a waste of time.
And LA's burning ... NY's painted black.
London's calling, calling me back.
Simple patterns make me crack.
Fucking lights, Hurts my head.
Borrowed youth.
All those wasted years.
And LA's learning . NY too.
London's calling, I'm calling you.
What doesn't matter , Still holds its truth,
That nothing matters, When I'm with you,
Cities only fill the void of the people wasting, wasting time on you.
Pretty lies and secret love,
Nothing gets me what I want from you,
From you, All I want,
What I want from you.
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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