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....