I never see the stars
  above the city lights
I never hear the planets' roar
  above the hum of engines
I hardly see the seasons change
  beneath the city's shameless grind
the money
  changing hands
the chattering
  passing lips
the crying
  newborn babies
the city's hearses
  silently
driving the old, the young, but the dead -
  to be burned and scattered
I live here with all this savage beauty
  trodden into the streets
  washed out by the rain