The Tourist

I know that six steps couldn't make up for this chase yet you move on somethin so stable, in my mind, makin me want to leave everythin, like you're the only thing I wanted to keep.

Nothin is unusual like every tourist that would get lost on some street.
Someone's eye is an avenue searched through the soul and yours is a phantom I stared with a candle that just brought every single part of me on its feet.

And so they say, telling the truth with style is a sign that one is weak, but girl I want to be Dead in front of them, just to tell how the candle lights the whole street for me and how beautiful you can be.