We ran through the city streets, alive
with painted faces and strange ties
the neon tape and eyes of gold
we told our story, its too oldWe could take it all away
we could take it all the way
to Grand St StationWe told our story, its too old
a young girl leaning on a ski pole
a fleeting glance and callus hands
we took our comfort in train plansWe could take it all away
we could take it all the way
to Grand St Station
we could take it all the way
to Grand St Station
where we'll be waiting...
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