| [00:35.05] |
I am the only one searchin' for you |
| [00:43.13] |
And if I get caught |
| [00:47.16] |
Then the search is through |
| [00:52.70] |
And the stories you hear, you know they never add up |
| [00:57.34] |
I hear the natives fussin' at the data chart |
| [01:02.46] |
Be quiet, the weather's on the night news |
| [01:07.10] |
Empty homes, plastic cones |
| [01:11.03] |
Stolen rims, are they alloy or chrome? |
| [01:15.53] |
Well, I've got style |
| [01:17.83] |
Miles and miles |
| [01:19.66] |
So much style that it's wasted |
| [01:23.85] |
So much style that it's wasted |
| [01:27.69] |
So much style that it's wasted |
| [01:49.96] |
Now she's the only one who always inhales |
| [01:57.84] |
Paris is stale and it's war if we fail |
| [02:06.50] |
And in the migrant hotels, they never sleep |
| [02:10.46] |
They never will |
| [02:12.46] |
Their souls are crumblin' like a dirt clawed hole |
| [02:16.49] |
Your cigarette cupped to the inside |
| [02:20.93] |
Empty homes, plastic cones |
| [02:24.72] |
Stolen rims, are they alloy or chrome? |
| [02:29.27] |
Well, I've got style |
| [02:31.30] |
Miles and miles |
| [02:33.07] |
So much style that it's leavin' |
| [02:36.76] |
This pattern's torn and we're weavin' |
| [02:40.40] |
This pattern's torn and we're weavin' in it |
