Amy O Arcade
I'm an empty mall, no more money
Go home running, see you never
A lover of fashion, from street to palace
And you're the latest thing to drop
They built it and they came…
I'll admit it, I'll miss it
Nobody thought to resist it
The sky in here's a ceiling
And there's an awful feeling
You think that you're healing
You're not even breathing
Find me at the arcade
I'll be at the coinslot
Picking all the cherries
Sniffing out the jackpot
