I hope I never see Dallas Winston again. If I do I'd... probably fall in love with him

A Dustland Fairytale beginning

With just another white trash county kiss

In '61, long brown hair, foolish eyes

He looks just like you'd want him to

Some kind of slick chrome American Prince

A bluejean serenade, and moon river, what you do to me...

Now Cinderella, don't you go to sleep

It's such a bitter form of refuge

Oh don't you know, the kingdom's under siege

And everybody needs you

Is there still magic in the midnight sun

Or did you leave it back in 61?

In the cadence of a young man's eyes

I wouldn't dream so high...

Lyrics by The Killers