I love your neighborhood;
it makes me laugh,
in the beginning of Autumn,
somewhere towards the East.
I love your neighborhood,
because everyone's laughing
at the end of the day.
In this city, we are all walking.
In this city, we are all submitting.
In this city, we are all dominating.
In this city, we are all dying.
It's a beautiful day for a walk around the streetlights;
it's the beginning of Autumn,
at the end of the day.
I want to talk to you with my eyes wide open,
and I know we've got to save the world
with paper,
and I know we're all getting tired of
sticks and stones;
the funniest things can happen in the darkest situations,
and the greatest things can happen in the strangest places,
and the strangest things can happen.
In your mind, we're all lonely people,
looking for someone to take us out of
this insanity that warps us,
and makes us lonely insomniacs riding on someone else's train to work;
in someone else's head,
in someone else's mind,
in someone else,
in someone else's dream.
I want to talk to you with my eyes wide open,
and I know we've got to save the world
with paper,
and I know we're all getting tired of
sticks and stones,
and driving uselessly on the highway of blue dimensions
for spare change.
It's a beautiful day for a walk around the streetlights;
it's the beginning of Autumn,
at the end of the day.