So cash in all your chips tonight, baby.
'Cause we're going out of style.
We could leave this city, if only for a while.
We'll take this feeling to our graves, for every heart we betrayed.
No one can know about this.
We'll take this feeling to our graves, for every heart we betrayed.
No one can know about this.
The only place I'll call home is my death bed.
I know we're so wrong, but it feels so right.
And it's not a party if it happens every night.
I'm running on empty, you're running out of luck.
So let's ditch this city, before we sober up.