Blackout, heatwave, .44 caliber homicide
The buns drop dead and dogs go mad
In packs on the West Side
Young girl standing on a ledge looks like another suicide
She wants to hit those bricks
'Cause the news at six gotta stick to a deadline
While the millionaires hide in Beekman Place
The bag ladies throw their bones in my face
I get attacked by a kid with stereo sound
I don't want to hear it but he won't turn it down
Life is tough but it's just enough
To hold back the tears until it's closing time
I survived, I'm still...
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