This is the story, of a post modern muse   Internationally minded, with nothing to lose   She was young, hanging out, nobody waiting at home   Her name was passion, she was the enemy of love      Another fading beauty on the sunset strip   x4      When our muse abused, of a few substances   Her reputation was cut into pieces   Watching the sky where the true stars belonged to   She knew if the sun goes down, it goes up too      Another fading beauty on the sunset strip   x4      From a thousand trips into wonderland   She kept on throwing bottles, and an SOS   When she passed out we watched her sleep   Another fading beauty on the Sunset Strip      Another fading beauty on the sunset strip   x4