Copenhagen heart lead me home by way of the Inner City Expressway.
I’ll trade le Sacre-Coeur for Suydam St.; three flights up to the railroad where you sleep.
I’ll marry you tonight
Baby, please tonight
Oooh, I’ll marry you.
Berlin bleeds of art and hope and grit. Never in the day did we ever feel that they quite.
It pulls and shines just like our Bushwick home
And from its core it screams that you are alone.
I’ll marry you tonight
Baby, please tonight
Oooh, I’ll marry you.
Ash in the European air has kept me from your ever-constant stare.
Your stare, your stare
Oooh, I’ll marry you
etc.
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