| Mona’s become a child of the night
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| When she goes out
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| It’s only for bare necessities
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| She says she’s had it up to here with light
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| While the city sleeps
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| That’s when she comes alive
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| Yes, the night belongs to Mona
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| When she’s dancing all alone
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| Forty floors above the city
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| CD spinnin', AC hummin', feelin' pretty
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| Sometimes she’ll call at some unholy hour
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| She wants to talk
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| All of this grim and funny stuff
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| Then she’ll go all quiet in her Chelsea tower
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| And that’s when we wait
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| To see how the story ends
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| 'Cause the night belongs to Mona
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| When she’s dancing all alone
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| Forty floors above the city
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| CD spinnin', AC hummin', feelin' pretty
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| Was it the fire downtown
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| That turned her world around
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| Was it some guy or lots of different things
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| We all wonder where she’s gone
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| That sunny girl we used to know
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| Now every night we get the Mona show
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| Maybe it’s good that she’s above it all
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| Things don’t seem as dark
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| When you’re already dressed in black
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| We try not to see the writing on the wall
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| What happens tomorrow
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| When the moonrays get so bright
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| When she rises towards the starlight
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| Miles above the city’s heat
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| Will she fall hard or float softly to the street
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| Tonight the night belongs to Mona
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| When she’s dancing all alone
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| Forty floors above the city
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| CD spinnin', AC hummin', feelin' pretty |