In the streets of the city,
We talk as if we know what we are made of.
We end our days with the thought of
Not wanting to go home;
We have our differences,
But that's one thing we have in common.
We have passed different sidewalks,
Barely minded other people's businesses,
Couldn't search for anymore faces
Because I have yours to gaze at,
And that's more than I could ask for.
We walk in the streets of the city,
Barely hearing the noise around me.
We'd go back and forth;
The walking will make us feel like
We're in New York.
But, we're just here in the city.
Dirt is a common denominator,
But you could call it neat
Since there's this ma