In the belly of the beast that is this place,
I drank from a faucet and I kept my receipts
For when they weigh me on my way out
(Here nothing is free).
The greyhounds keep coming
Dumping locusts into the street
Until the gutters overflow
And this place thinks,
"I might explode someday soon."
It's a lovely summer's day
And I can almost see a skyline through a thickening shroud of egos.
Here the names are what remain...
Stars encapsulate the gold lame
And they need constant cleaning for when the tourists begin salivating -Death Cab For Cutie, Why You'd Want To Live Here