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Gregory Alan Isakov
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O' City Lights
Maria's stoned like a porcelain saint
sweet morphine
sweet morphine
curls a smile when the sadness hits
finds my face with fingertips
have you seen her
the daughter of the hum of the highway
she's curling up like smoke
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oh city lights fly at this speed
oh heaven knows
it ain't me behind the wheel
this time
through the hills, you can hear them sing
ah Maria, ah Maria
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