She rides high on a Saturday night Halo gleams under a streetlight Billboards streaming through tearless eyes Walk without purpose and her shoes untiedI don't know how we're going to get home nowLet me walk beside you Let me bend your ear a little Can you be the real you? I lost the real me years ago If you could help me find it 'Cause I don't even know just where to startFirst of the worst in a pickup hearse I got a funny feeling that I'll never be rehearsed Now I'm feeling worse than you can feel I want to be real, but not too real Nothing could be worse than how you feel I want to be real, but not too realI don't know how we're going to get home now I don't know how we're going to get home nowWon't you walk beside me Won't you bend my ear a little Could you be the real you? 'Cause I lost the real me years ago If you could help me find it 'Cause I don't even know just where to startAnd now the hour is calling And now the hour is calling And now the hour is calling And now the hour is callingAnd now the hour is calling And now the hour is calling And now the hour is calling And now the hour is calling
