I can't remember what I planned tomorrow
I can't remember when it's time to go
When I look in the mirror Tracing lines with a pencil
I remember what came before
I wanted to think there was endless love
New York City
Such a beautiful disease
New York City
Such a beautiful,
Such a beautiful disease
Laura kept all her disappointments
Locked up in a box behind her closet door
We were full of the stuff that every dream rested
As if floating on a lumpy pillow sky