| Cold concrete apartments
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| Rise up from wet black asphalt
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| Below them a few carcasses
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| Of the long gone age of privacy
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| It takes a scary kind of illness
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| To design a place like this for pay
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| Downtown’s an endless generic mall
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| Of video games and fast food chains
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| One by one
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| The little houses are bricked up and condemned
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| A subtle hint to move
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| Before the rats move in
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| This could be anywhere
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| This could be everywhere
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| Those new kids at school seem cool
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| But dad says not to talk to them
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| Stick to your old friends
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| They’re not our kind
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| So now there’s lots of fights
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| So many people I know
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| Come of age tense and bitter-eyed
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| Can’t create so they just destroy
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| Let’s set someone’s dog on fire
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| Empty plastic
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| Culture slum suburbia
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| Is a war zone now
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| Sprouting the kinds of gangs
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| We thought we’d left behind
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| This could be anywhere
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| This could be everywhere
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| Kids at school are taking sides
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| Along color and uniform lines
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| My dad’s gone and bought a gun
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| He says he’s fed up
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| With crime in this town
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| This could be anywhere
|
| This could be everywhere
|
| This could be anywhere
|
| This could be everywhere
|
| Anywhere
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| Everywhere
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| I hope I’m gone before it explodes
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| I linger late at night
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| Waiting for the bus
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| No amount of neon jazz
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| Could hide the oozing vibes of death
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| My dad’s a vigilante now
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| He’s bringing home these weird-ass friends
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| Like the guy who fires blanks at his TV
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| When Kojak’s on
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| Or the guy who shows off his submachine gun
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| To his sixteen-year-old daughter’s friends
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| Whose sense of pride and hope
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| Is being in the police reserve
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| This could be anywhere
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| This could be everywhere-Everywhere |