When the sun sets down and you wait for the blue of the morning to come,
You're a phantom, too. The city and streets that become your own.
'Cause every roof deserves a second chance or two,
A second look before you fall back through,
The moon lights it differently, then.
And if the view's not just right, I'll come back tomorrow.
All the things that we take and we hold onto, and the things we create
Make us those people we always wanted to know.
So tape the things that you take for granted onto
The walls of your room - the songs and pictures we need, they need us, too.
And when those things go away I hit the bottle.