LYRICS GAME

At the disco door

Two roosters fight

And a pickpocket that's ready sets his sights on a wallet

A tie-clad suitor, very formal and dapper

He asks for a service, one of those that doesn't pay taxes

From a lady with loose morals

And on the sidewalk across the street two cops

Disguised as undercover cops

Or that's what they figure while watching the pack

And the moon toasts to them, the prettiest ones, the bottles

And the night not giving a damn

And the cars racing each other, burning rubber

And in the restroom

More gunshots than in a spaghetti western

And the cats, rather than brown, are sky blue

At the bar's corner, high, there are two shameless guys

That out of every five drinks pay only for one

Their friend the waitress that's addicted to anesthesia

Tends to pay them in flesh for what they give her in kind

And a gypsy they're taking away under arrest

Shouts in despair that they've made a mistake

Officer, I'm innocent

The one that you're looking for parts his hair on the other side

And the moon toasts to them, the prettiest ones, the bottles

And the night not giving a damn

And the cars racing each other, burning rubber

And in the restroom more gunshots than in a spaghetti western

And the cats, rather than brown, are sky blue

And the rooftops full of sky-blue cats

Some run from themselves and others run from people

Because nobody understands them

God raises them and they meet up in the alleys

To share tales of battles of lives and loves

Putting makeup on their stories—what imaginations

And the moon toasts to them, the prettiest ones, the bottles

And the night not giving a damn

And the cars, racing each other, burning rubber

And in the restroom more gunshots

Than in a spaghetti western

And the cats, rather than brown, are sky blue