The streetlights hum like a choir of ghosts, Singing in tongues we forgot how to know. You swore you’d leave, but the night’s got you close— A moth to the flame of the radio. Oh, the static’s a sermon, And the dial’s a prayer. We’re all just believers Who are going nowhere. So let neon burn like a hymn in the dark, A flicker of faith in a world torn apart. We’ll dance in the glow of the signs we can’t read, And pretend that the night is all that we need. The jukebox plays our old favorite lies, A love song for losers who can't say goodbye. You trace my name in the fog on the glass, Hoping morning will come when the darkness has passed. Oh, the static’s a sermon, And the dial’s a prayer. We’re all just believers Who are going nowhere. So let neon burn like a hymn in the dark, A flicker of faith in a world torn apart. We’ll dance in the glow of the signs we can’t read, And pretend that the night is all that we need. The highway’s a vein, and the city’s a heart, Pumping out dreams in the dark. We’re just echoes now, just shadows, just sound— But the night’s pulling us down. So let neon burn like a hymn in the dark, A flicker of faith in a world torn apart. We’ll dance in the glow of the signs we can’t read, And pretend that the night is all that we need. And pretend that the night is the only thing we need. And pretend that the night is the only thing…
