That small town is my torment
And this city is my solace
The busy streets don’t have room for a pit
And the city lights brighten the darkest nights
The people bustling and hustling even on Sundays
Oh, they don’t even have time for haze
Remembering and forgetting don’t require wit
The best thing this city has taught me about suffering is that I should own it
I did not lose the pain at all
But this city taught me to stand up after I fall.