I'm wired awake In the dark I can see my breath Cloud the room It's the kind of cold That heat won't cure And it comes from deep inside of you We're naked undercover In a tiny railroad shack Next to a line the trains don't run on Any longer A bus rolls by The building shakes I'm awake and wondering When I slipped And hit my head And fell into your bed It's a mystery to me Why you think that I should stay I'll call you tomorrow night in New York City And we'll both try to think of something To say