Do you ever think about running away?
Giving up the fight and leaving the shadows?
It's a gravitational pull that makes you dull.
A neon light flickering for life.

The part of the city in which you do not want to get lost,
Grey eyes stare at you as you walk past Overtime Avenue,
With hunched backs they go about their collection assignment.
As the rain starts to fall it carries the smell of the city's collective soul.

You step over others' past as you walk down the street, you wince.
A burnt cigarette on the side of the road, a half empty cup's dying steam dance.
As you look straight ahead, you take in the desperate vibrant colors,
an extreme contrast meant to mask and blur their fading smile into a twisted grin.