ode to the city, part three (paisan)

girl stares at my shoes, man i don't know in my house telling me the antichrist is a series of satelites over cuba and antarctica and sudddenly, it seems like the bible is cool again (i thought the raver culture died out, already) city i don't know what to tell anyone about anything anymore, but, goddman, pretty city of the big D dreams, coltrane tells you stories and you can always spell the truth out in the skyline, city, you and me are paisan from now on.

so maybe another nightime city, and you and me'll dance under the moon, i know a pretty girl, city, and there's nothing anywhere that anyone can do to keep me from putting my arm around her, city, if i wanna, and how the hell do you think you can stop me, right or wrong?

city, we're paisan i told you, brothers of the life and flesh every lie falls across your streets and alleys and you know 'em when you see 'em and city, i've gotten pretty damn good myself at calling 'em as i see 'em and city, sometimes, i call 'em right and maybe someday city, i'll have half the good sense of your charming green leaf trees and park life, squirrels running circles on the growing pure grass. city, i'd love to dance the raindrop sonatta with you this one last night, before i gotta get my oil checked.

2003-06-03 | 11:57 p.m.
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