It's not a sunrise over canyons shaped like hearts. It isn't bursting into song in Central Park. It's not the outline of your face drawn in the stars. It's a "still-there-Monday-morning" kind of love
thunes (bass). Chad wackerman (drums) City of tiny lites. Don't you wanna go. Hear the tiny auto horns. When they tiny blow. Tiny lightnin'. In the storm. Tiny blankets. Gonna keep you warm. Tiny
---- -- ---- ------. . City of tiny lites. Don't you wanna go. Hear the tiny auto horns. When they tiny blow. Tiny lightin'. In the storm. Tiny blankets. Keep you warm. Tiny pillows. Tiny
. If something goes wrong Tiny steps, almost real. Tiny fingers you almost feel. Make her walk or make her kneel. Oh, she's almost human beneath that Cuban heel Who's that down at the bottom of the
