The streets tangle endlessly, lined with golden lights for miles
all under a smog filled sky
Stars seem nonexistent, but are simply hiding from the chaos of a sleepless city
Cars drive day and night, with nowhere to go
People wander night and day with not a soul to know
Inhale, and you will feel the vapors of broken dreams fill your lungs
Exhale, and traces of hope start to fill your heart
but the intense heat on my skin is forever constant
We dream of leaving one day, never to return
But who will remember the city once the memories are burned away?
Who will sing the songs of its history, and history to be?
Who will see the golden lights and say "This is home to me?"
The city will be left for the dust and wind to befriend
the cobwebs and spiders who make them will sing of its name again
The wind will sing songs of its history, and history to be
The coyotes will howl at moons and stars they dont see
a cold and chilling sound of a city never home to me