| You told me on your birthday all the things that this place had done to you. | |
| And in the streets you walk. | |
| You hide your face because they don't believe that it's true. | |
| They say it doesn't happen that often. | |
| But it's happening right now. | |
| I'm writing you this letter to let you know | |
| I'm not alright. | |
| And in this city the streets are paved with hate | |
| And you cry yourself to sleep tonight. | |
| And say "no, there aren't enough love songs in the sky." | |
| You counted down the days till you could say "Bye-bye, city, bye-bye" | |
| You're walking down on | |
| UnionYou see the roads and know they're apart of you. | |
| They say it doesn't happen that often | |
| But it's happening right now. | |
| I'm writing you a second time. | |
| To let you know nothing here has changed. | |
| The streets are still paved with hate. | |
| So you can cry yourself to sleep tonight. | |
| Will you look back on this night | |
| As the day that ruined your life. | |
| Will you look back on these city streets and say,"Oh, God, where are you?" | |
| In these city streets | |
| I hide my face. | |
| I turn away when you look at me | |
| And every night when | |
| I try and sleep. | |
| I feel your hands all over my body. | |
| You stripped away the street signs and shot out all the stop lights. | |
| If you smashed away all the building what would you have left? |
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