Stumbling past your house baby

At the break of day

I thought I saw your silhouette

Dancing cross the shade

I went down to the mission

I called and called your name

Till an angel with a face like yours

Came down and let me in

Thought I saw your reflection in a cigarette machine

In a bottle in the gutter

In a window on the street

In a storefront in a picture on an old broken TV

I swear it was you staring back at me

I heard soldier's voices down by the city gate

There were junkies lying on the ground

They made me look away

I spilled you in a mirror

I chopped you into lines

Over some old kitchen sing

I swore I'd let you die

Thought I saw your reflection in a cigarette machine

In a bottle in the gutter

In a window on the street

In a storefront in a picture on an old broken TV

I swear it was you staring back at me

Old radios broken mirrors

Dogeared things I read

Worn out movie stars

In faded limousines

I stumble through my own charades

Coffee cups and clowns

I can't keep up with parades

I keep falling down

Thought I saw your reflection in a cigarette machine

In a bottle in the gutter

In a window on the street

In a storefront in a picture on an old broken TV

I swear it was you staring back at me

In a storefront in a picture on an old broken TV

I swear it was you it was you staring back at me