There's a harvest each Saturday night at the bars filled with perfume. And hitching a ride, a place you can stand for one night and get gone. It's clear this conversation ain't' doing a thing. Cause these boys only listen to me when I sing. And I don't feel like singing tonight all the same songs.
Here in these deep city lights, girl could get lost tonight. I'm finding every reason to be gone. Nothing here to hold on to. Could I hold you? The situation's always the same. You got your wolves in their clothes whispering Hollywood's name, stealing gold from the silver they see. But it's not me.
