LA lights, never shine quite as bright as in the movies.
But something about this dimly lit alleyway, has got me twisted,
In a way.
And we're trying to fight the morning light,
Whiskey soaked lips & lipstick stained nights.
Whiskey soaked lips & lipstick stained nights.
But what are we waiting for?
The sun to rise?
As our grip tightens on the moon.
Laughter flows freely,
Almost as freely as the booze,
And our conversation.
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