Cinema could never do justice to the way you look tonightnPout-faced, your eyes are all shiningnIn the subzero dawning lightnnI drove like a madman to get herenAnd you barely remember my namenI called from the road and you told me to comenCause you had a bad case of the shamennShame, shame, shamenShame, shame, shamenWas your gamenShame, shame, shamennThe towers of glass are like islesnAnd I'm running away them nownOne morning, they'll all turn to ashesnI don't want to be here to see hownnIt's hot for two weekends now, I figurenAll the tramps are the color of sandnThe skyline is made out of storiesnSo tell them yours while you're holding my handnnHand, hand, handnHand, hand, handnYou never understandnSo take my hand, hand, handnnIt's hot for two weekends now, I figurenAnd all the tramps are the color of sandnThe skyline is made out of storiesnTell them yours while you're holding my handnnWhile you're holding my handnnWhile you're holding my hand