The girls on the streets all look sad in this gold encrested little town 
Why is that? 
Isn't this the town of dreams? 
yeah... But [bad word] with a price 
It's a town that never does anything and yet takes all the credit 
place that promises so much, 
But never has a thing to say, 
Or a care in the world 
There is no memory here 
No dream for itself but the dreams of others 
And all over the world you talk of a place you've only seen in [bad word] 
Immorallized for it's vice, and deified for it's carnage 
(There's money in the air there) 
(All you have to do is reach up and grab it) 
In basements, garages, parking lots, empty lots, schoolyards, town cars, backrooms and more 
Diamonds are fashioned from expectations and fortified on a steady diet, 
of simple lives and red carpets 
The ejaculating zeitgeist in nightvision 
Culture is a punchline and emotion is blood in the water 
The sharks here play games you can't fathom 
But you flock here anyway 
On college money and credit cards 
Spend a week [bad word] yourself that it was all [bad word] 
All of it 
Just to watch in horror as it all falls to pieces under the gravity of reality 
The stary eyes fade as it dawns on you 
Nothing is garanteed 
You are a part of the great divide 
The choosen or the frozen 
Now your mouth's away without a net 
Your college money's a collage of debt 
and your credit cards are all snapped in [bad word] half 
time to wander a landscape bereft of mercy 
This is now the backlot of your failed movie 
waking dream re-written without your permission 
The real luster, the soft focus, the... 
Soap opera vision is just the hindsight of a world who's been lied to 
Of sad surfs and untouchable lords 
You took a chance didn't you? 
But chance didn't have a par for you this time around, maybe next life 
And you can't even walk home 
The girls on the streets all look sad in this cardboard cut-out little town 
(huh) No wonder 
That's the only thing here that's real 
The gold is for fools 
And paradise is lost but the hungry have never bothered with the cost 
Day by day they fall away like rose pedals 
Like ink that won't dry or fade 
It [bad word] wild down cracks and crevices, grooves and folds 
so I hope someone saves you before you get cold 
I really do 
Because the girls are all sad in this little black book 
If you don't beleive me, take a closer look 
if you can