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Description
I'm living in a city
That is close to nowhere
Go west and it's empty desert
Go east and it's empty plain
It's close to used up
No more industry
It's dangerous to walk the streets at night
High murder, high rape, high drugs
It's the epitome of the american city
There is nowhere to go
There is nothing to do
You sit in your apartment
And you smoke a pack of camels
And you wait for something
This is where music is born
When you have nothing
You got to make something
I imagine slow sad country ballads
And long notes of jazz
And nihilistic punk rock
Existing out here
On the wind
They say there isn't a hill
Between here and the north pole
And I believe it
The dust blows in
And you can't see your hand
In front of you
It's a dirt city
Built on dirt
And people covered in it
Late at night
You can hear the crying
And you don't wonder anymore
Because you know what it's about