Big City Dreams
Do you ever look around this city, this place you call home,
Can you look beyond the buildings, passed the glitz and glamour
Do you ever see the real life hiding in the shadows of plain sight,
Do you ever wonder where the homeless go at night?
Have you seen the old war vet walking down by the river?
His clothes are in rags and he gazes to the sky,
All he wants is for those memories to die,
Alone at night he cries, for the living and the dead, all those spirits that wont ever leave his head.
Big city dreams aren’t big city realities.
Jay’s a singer, off to another show, guitar on his back, walking on his own
In some west side dive bar, he pours his heart out to a beer smelling microphone,
He’s travelled all over the world, seen to all kinds of places, drives a big fancy car,
But you can travel ten thousand miles and still stay where you are.
And you know, big city dreams hardly ever become big city realities.
Sue over there works in a grocery store downtown.
She keeps the shelves stacked just right, from morning to night,
Yet deep inside her head she’s wearing her white lacy wedding gown,
For you know one day she prays, she’ll find her Mr Right.
And whilst it hasn’t happened yet, maybe one day big city dreams will become big city realities.
You see that boy waiting at the corner with the crooked smile and hair of gold,
Not even out of his teens, yet he’s learnt how to work his assets and turn on the charm,
He hasn’t much to sell, just lay fifty bucks down and he considers his ass sold,
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, but dreams don’t protect you from harm.
And the city streets bleed me dry, big city dreams always make me cry, for big city dreams hardly ever become big city realities.
So I ask again, do you ever look around this city you call home?
Do you ever see the real life hiding in the shadows of plain sight?
That place where the invisible people roam.
Do you ever wonder where the homeless go at night?
Big city dreams ain’t big city realities, no quick fix solutions, no streets paved of gold,
Yet every hour they come with heads full of dreams and hearts full of hope,
It wont take long on the streets for the young to grow old.
The only hope comes from an empty bottle and the end of a piece of knotted rope.
Big city dreams never do come true, never become big city realities.
© 2012 Copyright
