When The City Sleeps we run wild until our feet bleed we bomb your streets we grow up quickly to survive we ride trains from the Bronx to Coney Island we walk until the sun wakes up we hang on the corners we run from cops we take control of kingdoms we leave our fingerprints on granite we find our
purpose in the music we break tradition on corner stones we yell for the gloaming we grow in numbers as the hours pass we spread like wildfire we plan your downfall we defend ourselves we hide in the shadows to save ourselves we push back our fate we search for God in the traffic lights we wander until we find meaning when the city sleeps we wax poetic drunk on our own innocence we lock the rhythm of new york in our bones we look at ourselves in the hudson
river we smoke life on the Brooklyn Bridge we jump off the Empire State building we are artists with brick canvas we change your views on us when one of you ask us why? we are with your daughters we steal our childhood back we are elegant in our ignorance (some of us) we are loud, brash and obnoxious just like you we lay down on Broadway to watch the stars we rest in 24 hour diners and only order fries we leave our names behind so you can try
to find us we wear noise pollution like a pair of headphones we hold up the heavens with our angel headed hipster slang walk we write quotes for middle america to take back home we draw new sunsets on the side of buildings to breathe we cut it open and drink from her veins we sit on garbage cans and lay on steps we catch the first train in and the last train out we rest on park benches and count the stars we rack our livelihood up our backs
and sell it to survive we are our own gods and hope someone will pray for us we feel more comfortable waiting until dusk calls us again we wait for her to rise we watch her buildings stretch into the sky we take notes of her beauty and tell the people we hold her heart in our pockets we dot her eyes and cross her streets when the city sleeps...
