Desolate and without purposeRadiating from so many septic sourcesForming the fabric of a wayward peopleDisappearing as the vestiges of our pastScratched like tartan into virgin soilA substrate for progress and disarrayA spreading network of broken dreamsSearching for a thoroughfare to take us awayJust a little tale from the streets of America (say a little prayer)Sparkled promises paved with pathos and hysteriaTrenchant, weary native sonsStep backAnd see the damage doneMeander to the horizon (shoot straight to the horizon)The streets of AmericaBlack, tarred concretePine for meLying dormantFor you and countryHardened surfaceCracked withinCatch the sweatFrom off the chinOf men and womenSenior and childWho look to youAnd your sterile milesAnd in their staresIs bald dismayFor what you promisedLed them astrayHard-cracked, daunting, lifeless veinsFalse hope corridors to greener pastures is all that remains
desolate and without purposeradiating from so many septic sourcesforming the fabric of a wayward peopledisappearing as the vestiges of our pastscratched like tartan into virgin soila substrate for progress and disarraya spreading network of broken dreamssearching for a thoroughfare to take us awayjust a little tale from the streets of America (say a little prayer)sparkled promises paved with pathos and hysteriatrenchant, weary native sonsstep backand see the damage donemeander to the horizon (shoot straight to the horizon)the streets of Americablack, tarred concretepine for melying domantfor you and countryhardened surfacecracked withincatch the sweatfrom off the chinof men and womensenior and childwho look to youand your sterile milesand in their staresis bald dismayfor what you promisedled them astrayhard-cracked, daunting, lifeless veinsfalse hope corridors to greener pastures is all that remains