Cigarette Machine

Stumbling past your house baby
At the break of day
I thought I saw your silhouette
Dancing across the shade
And I went out to the mission
And I called and called your name
Till an angel with a face like yours
Came down and let me in

I thought I saw your reflection in a cigarette machine
In a bottle in the gutter
In a window on the street
In a storefront, in a picture, on an old broken TV
I swear it was you staring back at me

I heard soldiers' voices by the city gate
There were junkies lying on the ground
They made me look away
And I spilled you on a mirror
And I chopped you into lines
And over some old kitchen sink
I swore I’d let you die

I thought I saw your reflection in a cigarette machine
In a bottle in a gutter
In a window on the street
In a storefront, in a picture, on an old broken TV
I swear it was you staring back at me

Old radios and broken mirrors
Dog-eared things I read
Worn out movie stars
In faded limousines
And I battle through my own charades
Of coffee cups and clowns
I can’t keep up with parades
I keep falling down

I thought I saw your reflection in a cigarette machine
In a bottle in the gutter
In a window on the street
In a storefront, in a picture, on an old broken TV
I swear it was you staring back at me
In a storefront, in a picture, on an old broken TV
I swear it was you staring back at me