> E                                A9
> Looking back at the crash site,
> E                               A9
> I don't see me by the road side.
> E                                Ab
> Well this heart is on wheels tonight,
> C#m                          C#m7          A
> Straight through the ghettos and without
> lights.
> E                                   A9
> Now every heart has a blind side,
> E                                      A9
> Where he learns how to improvise.
> E                              Ab
> Well this place is a whorehouse tonight,
> C#m       C#m7          A
> Cheaper lovers make expensive wives--
> 
> C#m                     E         B
> Ab
> --But all of these horses that you chase
> around,
>            C#m      C#m7  F#          F#m
> In the end they are the ones that always
> bring you
> B
> down.
> 
> This invisible city, Where no one sees nothing.
> Where touching faces--In the dark.
> Feeling pretty is so hard.
> Now all of these voices,
> And all of these noises.
> With all of their illusions of choices,
> They've come to my door with one dozen roses.
> The imitation of good thief,
> Is how you stumble upon hate.
> It may of been the first of mistakes,
> When we held on to listening that opened the gates--
> 
> --Now all of these horses that you chase around,
> In the end they are the ones that always bring you
> down.
> 
> This invisible city, where no one sees nothing.
> Where touching faces--In the dark.
> Feeling pretty is so hard.
> Now I try not to tell lies,
> But there's pressures from inside.
> So I've learned how to compromise,
> Good people for alibis--
> 
> --But all of these horses that you chase around,
> In the end they are the ones that always bring you
> down.
> 
> This invisible city, where no one sees nothing.
> Where touching faces--In the dark.
> Feeling pretty is so hard.