Get Thee to the city momma. A place where you can make it your own. Get thee to the city momma. Oh you gonna make it your home. I know you gonna make it your home.
Spent al your nights in the same dive bar. You need a new muse for picking your guitar. Small town gossip, folks turning a frown from their cross-over trucks all mini-mall bound. Them Sunday morning hypocrites all say their prayers and then soon forget. You need ya the straight line where they tell it like it is. I'm telling you, you won't mind.
'Cause you was drawn to all them bright lights, where it only gets brighter in the night. You're tired of Wawa, you're tired of Starbucks. Need to find a whole in the wall and try your luck. From underground to a high rise to a loft party on Jefftown side. Turn your brain upside down and back again, see what you found.
Left it all behind, jumping the turnstile on the Secaucus line. Got 500 bucks in a guitar case. Don't know what you doing you just know the place.
Track Name: The Amplifier
There's hell to pay when that's all you feel.
We've covered the sky in a blanket of filth. Dug too deep, can't turn back.
The amplifier takes it higher until I can't feel.
No matter how you wish it wasn't this all is real.
All the things that you are, money spawn petty quarrels.
Evil sees, evil does, fills all the voids, never understanding love.