In the glass of Bloomingdale's
ghost taxis flash
feet of comics
hair of trollops
pop pop pop pop

Chorus
I am fashion
you are fashion
we are fashion

Diplomats, river rats
bartender’s sons
spills from windowsills
electric champions

Playwrights, millwrights
insights so out of sight
car lights, big nights
starlight litters
the streets of no return