Home Sweet Home.

Not gone for long, now welcome home. To the vibrant city where lost souls come to roam.

Down the road there's old Jerome. Who'll sell you some joy or a cheap stolen cell phone.

All the streets here are filled with cracks. And they wonder why nobody here pays the poll tax.

Here's the truth that you won't get back, everybody here lives life on a contract.

We're all man made machines. In a city that we made from broken dreams.

Up the road is where Mark was shot. By the gloomy station, why did he have to run from a cop.
Now all that's left is withered flowers with faded notes on top.

In the mornings we all hit the gym. We may be broken, at least we're lean and trim. But it does'nt really mean a thing. When fixing the outside can't fix your feelings.

Long days and long, long nights. In seedy nightclubs blinded by the lights. Little pills in red, blue and white will make you fly up to amazing heights and crash before they've read you your last rites.

Look up, there's sweet Caroline. She's been dancing for a long, long time. And I'm not saying that it's a crime. But she'll trade her love for a half glass of red wine.

And that's the truth. But we'll pretend. As I wake up next to somebody's girlfriend.

Old cars play old hip hop. A constant droning, it goes on it's non stop.

All the kids here walk the streets. Stopped and searched twice a day so they keep receipts.

And all the girls here are looking for answers. And they'll get their tips as go-go dancers.

And all the boys here want to scrap. They see me starring and probably want to give me a slap. And here's the truth they won't give back...
I'm the lone stray outside of the wolfpack...

And we're all man made machines. In a city that we made from broken dreams.