It's quiet in this apartment
Another New York night alone
Staring blankly at the t.v.
My hand placed firmly on the phone

The phone hasn't rang in ages
Tonight is the same
So I pull out a pen and some paper
And begin to place the blame

These Desolate Miracles are tearing me apart
Is it worht the loneliness to perfect my art
I don't know where to end or how to start
These desolate miracles come from a desolate heart

"Enough is Enough!" I exclaim
Then I'm in Times square in the driving rain
Under all the lights I feel one in the same
But lights could never end my pain

These Desolate Miracles are tearing me apart
Is it worht the loneliness to perfect my art
I don't know where to end or how to start
These desolate miracles come from a desolate heart