So I cut my hair to look like Patti Smith
Now I'll sing about women who have sex with men
But just for the sake of the clearness of it
I have made you this song
But it's just as a friend so...

Hold on,
Can you give me a reason
To sing about you?
Make a thing about you?

If you really love music, then go start a band
Don't just talk about something you don't understand
If you really crave action, then come start a fight
Don't just go on about it the whole of the night

'Cause cocaine makes you so fucking lame
Just as I didn't ask, but I'm sure you'll explain
How the motion of paper to skin
Killed the skin that you're in
Now it's all paper-thin
Vapours glistening...

Smoke...

Well, apparently where there is smoke you'll find fire
But in your eyes I can't see no passion at all
Just a girl with a cigarette whose one desire
Is to go through this life being fashionably small

Yeah, well - Gloria, basically, listen to this
All your posturing makes me forget you exist
So pick up all the names that you dropped
Stop for a minute, just stop
Hold on...

But darling, the night-time was made for the young
It's the only thing we can possess
So honey your accent, and ready your tongue
We'll make unholy mess out of your party dress

'Cause the city is beckoning,
Pulses and sirens
The drone of the glow and the hum of the violence
Is singing "Tomorrow is dead"
Gather in all the shades of the red siren-song
And the dusk is calling you to arms

Oh, the night's welcoming
So let's flirt with some sin
Then I'll go home, come clean and I'll do the right thing by him
Conquer the heat of my wandering eye
'Cause we're humans, we're weak
And we cheat and we lie

Oh but...
Gloria, show me the weakness in you
For tonight if I breathe in, will you breathe in too?
'Cause tomorrow will probably be spent in bed
How much more time like this do we have 'til we're...

...smoke?