New York, Paris - Slowly Slowly

Dry cicada shells

Move in the wind like you have bones

Walk on the road

Wait for the cars, don’t get hit

You sit and heal my hand

I know you’ve had trouble sleeping

Isn’t that always the way?

All my friends are the same

They sing, «What would I do for an ear or two?»

I’m alone in suburbia, alone just like you

While the back door’s swinging, no one wants to talk

So when the going gets tough, I dream of New York

I saw it on the TV, looks alright to me

I’m not alone

I know I’m not alone

I’m not alone

Dry cicada shell

Why did you stay home again?

You know they’re waiting for you

But I guess you were just waiting too

What would I do for a drink or two?

Something to drown out all the words I should use

While my right hand’s swinging into the back of your head

I knew at that moment, I should’ve stayed home in bed

But when the going gets tough, I don’t get embarrassed

I just close my dead eyes and I’ll dream of Paris

I saw it on the TV, looks alright to me

I’m not alone

I know I’m not alone

I’m not alone

The oldest of two, but the youngest at heart

You can trace my align in the black tire marks

Or out on the gutter where my head caved in

Or behind the tattoo shop, if you wanna hide your skin

I’m not ashamed, no, I’m not embarrassed

Well, some of us won’t make it to New York or Paris

I made my own here at home

Got it all wrong, stuck out in space

Watching the earth turn, like a disappointed face

There’s a boy in my bed, he keeps pointing at Hell

And I know that he means it, and you know as well

Me and you

If I can’t fix the world, I’ll fix you

If I can’t fix the world, I’ll fix you