I hear your words through the confusion of the bubblegum jungle
Exploding and annoying syllables layered helplessly on the walls of graffiti infused concrete trees

The Rush St. preachers wailing sounds
of the end of world
"The apocalypse is coming, GOD be with y..."
Abruptly interrupted by another city ant walking by..
"Go to hell, you *******!!"
The preacher whispers to himself
"May God have mercy on his soul, Amen"

White City elites with turned up noses
on their Michigan Ave stroll
"Snobs" central passing by the homeless
as they whisper for change
sitting next to their leaky cardboard mansions

******* clad ladies of night
selling their *** to married men,
to whom are seeking to expel their worries
between the legs of the fallen
"Take that harder, harder"
Echoes of moans from the alley way
Cash for a minute of pleasure and gone

This bubblegum jungle will chew you up and spit you out
It doesn't seek retribution
It's only seeks hunger
Feeding off the weak and nimble
Leaving your bones on the bent and deserted sidewalks of the White City

Steps into infinite
the beat of soles
mountains, canyons
trees, and holes
The heartbeat of Philmont
the feel of freedom
smelling of pungent odor
no beating of drums
Stomp in the dirt
pound the rocks
crack the boots
and rip your socks
Cinch your pack on
keep it tight
trudge on scout
and you just might
Make the cut
the dwindling few
the mighty ones
the Philmont Crew.