Well, baby used to stay out all night long.
She made me cry, she done me wrong.
She hurt my eyes open, that's no lie.
Table's turning, now her turn to cry.
On your feet you feel the beat
It goes straight to your spine
Shake your head you must be dead if it don't make you fly,
Don't sweat it, get it back to you,
I build each one of my songs out of glass
So you can see me inside of them I suppose
Or you could just leave the image of me in the backround
I guess and watch your own reflection superimposed