A cold and porcelain lonely in an old New York A stranger to a city that she used to know so Bathing in a bathroom that is bathed in the first light Of the beginning of a at the end of an endless night
Then she is wet behind the ears and down the avenue Pre-rush hour, post-rain Stillness seeping upwards like From another sewer summer in New York
They've been us With chemicals in our Us, Something about the Having kind of disease Them, me
CIA play if you ask the guy Selling hair out of a gym bag Chemical
"I'm you, lab rat to lab rat", he says "That's the truth is at" where the truth is at That's the truth is at
And everything to have gone terribly wrong that can But one breath at a time is an plan She tells herself and the air is there And this morning it's breathable
And for a second the relief is And she's a heavy sack of flour her burden lifted She's of clean wind for one lean moment And then she's trapped
Reverted, caged and With no way to get And she's getting of little kisses But slippin' her the key
Her whole is a long list of what ifs And she doesn't even where to begin And the of suffering therein Rivals
TV is, all, the modern day roman coliseum devastation as mass entertainment And now millions sit jeering collectively The bloodthirsty hierarchy of the arrangement
She is a cab She is sailing the avenue She's 19 on 30
Or maybe really 30 now hard to say It's hard to keep up with time it's on its way
And, you know, she never had of a chance Born into a family built like an And somewhere in the between the Oat Bran and the Ozone She started to figure out things why
One eye upwards looking for the holes in the sky One eye on the little red light A Picasso face and listing down the canvas Of the end of an night
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 And Kerplooey you're You're done for, done for good So me did you? Did you do, did you do all you