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When the Ghosts Come out to Play

de ANNABEL LEE

New York, scorching in the summer
I sweat underneath my lover
Is it too late, is it too late for me?

East side, my infatuation
My guy, inflicted and impatient
Is it too late, is it too late for me?

I wander the lobby of the Chelsea Hotel
I dream about begging to sleep in a cell

Oh, I wanna live like Patti Smith
I wanna fear God with a self-made grit
Don’t wanna suffer the age I'm in

Mornings, day old bread you found me
My lungs, blackened like my coffee
Is it too late, is it too late for me?

My dress, frayed and full of memory
I choose romance over cleanly
Is it too late, is it too late for me?

I wander of the lobby of the Chelsea Hotel
I dream about begging to sleep in a cell

Oh, I wanna live like Patti Smith
I wanna fear God with a self-made grit
Don’t wanna suffer the age I'm in

Oh, I wanna live like Patti Smith
I wanna make love and destroy with it
Don’t wanna suffer the age I'm in

Today feels so hard and I'm searching for why
I'm pining for something that's so far behind

Yeah, I wanna live like Patti Smith
I wanna fear God with a self-made grit
Don’t wanna suffer the age I'm in

Oh, I wanna live like Patti Smith
I wanna make love and destroy with it
Don’t wanna suffer the age I'm in

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