• This place is not drab
    This is where the culture is
    Where mismatched buildings play harmonics in my ear
    And a dirty man is lying in the gutter
    Talking gibberish
    Where a fat woman with a big black bag
    Is throwing coins at him
    "Get a job."
    Where a boy with a face full of metal
    Now a man
    Decked in heels six inches long
    Can walk with his head held high
    And speak verses about his problems
    Intellectual but posh
    And oh-so cliche
    This is a city of cliches
    That is growing and changing
    And is always hungry
    For more
    Where girls with tangerine tans
    And plastic nails
    Can giggle and
    Rifle and rally over goods
    While a single mom with three kids
    Hangs
    Her laundry across the sky
    And she says to the man in the gutter
    "I'll give you a job."
    Though she's got no money of her own
    He sweeps the sidewalk and is payed in peanut-butter sandwiches
    Brown bread,
    'Cause it's cheaper
    With the crusts,
    'Cause there's no point in wastin'
    What can feed a mouth
    That's what her Mama always said
    When she was young
    And would rifle and rally over goods
    In the city.