Everyone comes here to escape- Freedom!
Seeking the sun, which stands so low- The thrill
of winning a gamble. Reflections
of palm trees in a hundred dollar bill.
I think of home, and for this city I bleed
I think of home, and I hear these stories told,
under low buildings. It gets used- Agreed.
But I´ll forever miss people being bold.
As I wing my free way through these stirring skies,
I´ll sing this song taught in the tinsel town
A song of hopeful success, an essence
that I´ll bring to my city without crown.
Beyond my content notion of bareness,
I will come back and fill this emptiness.