Текст песни
Wiped up the blood from the mirror.
Oh it was nothing serious, I just cut myself shaving.
Thought about life as I lit up a cigarette,
And the gallon of blood that keeps me alive.
What are people, anyway?
Climbed up the hill to look out on the city
Lights, millions of strangers on a cold, cold night.
Each set of eyes seein' things a little
Differently, then in the end it all comes down to property.
What are people, anyway?
People can be good fun.
People will hang around, if you let 'em.