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pretty girls are walking around |
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they're walking on crutches barely making a sound |
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they're calling up their boyfriends to come fetch them after work |
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cuz their legs are getting tired from the dancing they've been doing trying to make it in the city |
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and you wanna feel bad for 'em |
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home cook a meal for 'em |
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dial up the mothers who can hardly wait to see 'em |
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going out the door back to college or |
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university |
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supposedly |
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can't see straight I've got spots on my lens |
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I can't look forward only speak in past tense |
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I got being for my purpose |
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but no purpose for being here |
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it's better just to look away when everything is falling down |
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it's falling down in the city |
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when the broken legs are looking pretty |
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the fact of the matter is |
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what's buried under here is |
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you gotta go to school if you want a career |
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you've got to summon up the forces that are there to tie you down |
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you've got to rest that broken leg and just be glad it's not a broken heart in the city |
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cuz a broken heart is never pretty |
