| All I ever wanted |
| Was to be excited |
| About right now |
| We all wanna be number 1 |
| All I ever wanted |
| Was to be excited |
| About right now |
| We all wanna be number 1 |
| We all wanna be number 1 |
| When I said goodbye |
| She has a tear in her eye |
| I’m like momma don’t cry |
| Your little boy got to fly |
| They say up in N.Y. |
| I swear it’s going down |
| and I’m gonna have a million dollars |
| when I get back in town |
| She said «You're just going through a phase |
| can’t this be a hobby?» |
| I said «My friends say I’m dope, |
| even Charlie &Robbie» |
| We said our goodbyes |
| And I boarded the plane |
| I was looking out the window |
| at the wings as it rained |
| We taxied to the runway |
| I could hear the engine howling |
| Thew a prayer up in the air |
| And felt the world escape the ground |
| The buildings, the cars |
| And the towns were small as ants |
| I was destined for the unknown |
| Just lookin for a chance |
| We landed at LaGuardia |
| I grabbed my bags and stepped |
| Into the cold, the snow was falling |
| I lit a cigarette |
| There was a million yellow taxis |
| Everybody seemed upset |
| A rugged voice from behind me |
| Asked me «Where you tryin to get?» |
| I said «The closest motel, |
| but no tellin tomorrow» |
| He said «You must be from Atlanta» |
| I said «Georgia, how did you know?» |
| «I could tell from your accent |
| That you were from the south» |
| Threw my luggage in the trunk |
| He said «Get it"and we pulled out |
| Into the sirens and the honking horns |
| The hustle and the bustle |
| And the traffic that’s when he said |
| «Welcome to the Jungle» |
| I looked up at all the buildings |
| Until we got to the mot- |
| Before we left he said «I hope you find |
| what you’re lookin for» |
| Then a 19 yr old kid |
| In a motel room in New York |
| Dug his cellie out his pocket |
| Called his parents to report |
| He was alive and doin well and doin fine |
| When he got off the phone |
| He sat down on the corner of the bed |
| All alone |
| With the TV on the volume mute |
| He grabbed his pen and pad |
| And jotted down ideas about some things |
| That he wanted so bad |
| That he would risk it all to get 'em |
| And it wasn’t very long |
| He was asleep and right beside him |
| laid the lyrics to a song called |