Where the lights hang low
The walls are stale from a thousand Marlborough lights
And the carpet tells a tale of a thousand Friday nights
Biting down on burnt out cigars
Plays forgotten songs on broken guitars
Where the lights hang low
There's a place I've found
Where all the girls dress in angelic white
But age is so unkind under florescent lights
And there's a man by the door
Neatly stitched to the floor
He's sat there for a thousand years
And he'll sit there for a thousand more
Where the lights hang low
Where the lights hang low
Composição: Passenger
