| This city is a bypass, |
| don’t let us get in your way. |
| From a distance it’s tight knit. |
| Up close, it’s hard to says. |
| These sidewalks became my feet, |
| a tight fit with a battered beat. |
| The forgotten past to our present |
| just paves the way for decadence. |
| In this city the copters sing, |
| they sing to us all night. |
| In this city we fall asleep |
| to helicopter lullabies. |
| In the home of the fall of pressure |
| surviving is how things are measured. |
| You worry about the finer things in life, |
| we try to keep a solid hold on liquid life. |
| From a distance its romance. |
| Up close it’s hard to say. |
| Watched over by a parade of blue lights, |
| walking alone on too-silent nights. |
| In this city the copters sing, |
| they sing to us all night. |
| In this city we fall asleep |
| to helicopter lullabies. |
| They’re circling now. |
| I can’t fall asleep until they pass my house. |
| Cold comfort in that sound as they pass my house. |
| I can’t fall asleep unless they pass my house. |
| They’re circling now. |