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• Artiste: Contra Band (The)
• Titre: Desolate Miracles
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It's quiet in this apartment Another New York night alone Staring blankly at the t.v. My hand placed firmly on the phone The phone hasn't rang in ages Tonight is the same So I pull out a pen and some paper And begin to place the blame These Desolate Miracles are tearing me apart Is it worht the loneliness to perfect my art I don't know where to end or how to start These desolate miracles come from a desolate heart "Enough is Enough!" I exclaim Then I'm in Times square in the driving rain Under all the lights I feel one in the same But lights could never end my pain These Desolate Miracles are tearing me apart Is it worht the loneliness to perfect my art I don't know where to end or how to start These desolate miracles come from a desolate heart