Hanging high over your head
Foreign lights burn red
Your face feels numb
Shoot it in slow; feel it take hold

Forgotten by those who matter the most
You know the streets — you are you're own host
Wishing on stars that burned out long ago

In the garden of night you muster
All of the friends you have are strangers
Trying to cover the spots, the blisters
Doing everything to not remember

Will you find your family?
Do you even care now?
'Cause you have stories that some won't believe
But you can't overlook these memories

Assimilate with those craving a home
Because when moon takes the sun, you're cursed to roam
And wish on stars that burned out long ago