Looking down
I can see the street
Where good and evil meet
On the pale concrete
Several thousand walking feet
And a hip-hop beat in mind.
And
I don't even like hip hop but
I never want to leave
Looking up
The neon lights are shining and
They're advertising my dreams
Of designer fashion that I can't afford
And houses built of luxury
For some urban kind of lord.
And
I know I'm only dreaming but
I never want to leave.
And
I know tomorrow's coming but
I never want to leave
This city is holy ground
For pop culture priests
Performing their daily worship
On the city's busy streets
Blue hair without a care
Thrift store finery they buy
Increasing the line at Starbucks
And comparing mosh pit injuries.
This city is a dealer
For the shop-aholic kind
Chanel, Dior, Escada
And the price won't change their mind
Seeking out the sale racks
For that single perfect find.
The city is a limousine
For those who crave success
The business men in sharp black suits,
Who earn salaries of excess,
Order steak at every dinner
And wash it down with wine.
This city is stone and concrete
Decorated with windows of glas