This is the story, of a post modern muse Internationally minded, with nothing to lose She was young, hanging out, nobody waiting at home Her name was passion, she was the enemy of love
Another fading beauty on the sunset strip x4
When our muse abused, of a few substances Her reputation was cut into pieces Watching the sky where the true stars belonged to She knew if the sun goes down, it goes up too
Another fading beauty on the sunset strip x4
From a thousand trips into wonderland She kept on throwing bottles, and an SOS When she passed out we watched her sleep Another fading beauty on the Sunset Strip