I live on the second floor 

Of an old row house down in Baltimore 

Watching all the colors and the shapes 

Standing tall up here 



My face against the window 

Oooooo.... 

My face against the window 

Oooooo.... 



These moments, they can never last 

Like a sad old man with his photographs 

Keeps wishing for the things he cannot change 

Standing tall up here 



My face against the window 

Oooooo.... 



My face against the window 

Oooooo.... 



So the architects and the engineers 

Build their monuments, make their souvenirs 

We are occupants 

It's a trap, this town 

We are burning up 

We are fading out 

We are shooting stars 



Oooooo.... 

Oooooo.... 

Oooooo....