Strangers passing on a street, by chance two separate glances meet. I am you and what I see is me.
I lit a wooden match; I let it all burn down
I've broken every rule; I've wrecked it all down
There are no words in the wind, the trees are all bare
Life's mean as a needle; but why should I care?
A good man is hard to find
Only strangers sleep in my bed
My favorite words are good-bye
And my favorite color is red
I always play Russian Roulette in my head
It's seventeen black and twenty-nine red
How far from the gutter; how far from the pew
I'll always remember to forget about you
A good man is hard to find
Only strangers sleep in my bed
My favorite words are good-bye
And my fa
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