I was running out of trouble

You were running out of fame

Streets smelled like the desert

As they were putting out the flames

And Chelsea burns

Chelsea burns

Under my feet

Twenty-third was empty

I heard somebody yell

A straight-laced passerby's

Pulled over the hotel

And Chelsea burns

Chelsea burns

Under my feet

Whether we were lost or overwhelmed

Nobody knows that I'm better off

Making up lies to be left alone

And Chelsea burns

Chelsea burns

Under my feet

I was running out of trouble

You were running out of fame

I'm streets ahead of happiness

Still wondering who to blame

Chelsea burns

Chelsea burns

Under my feet