You told me on your birthday all the things that this palce had done to you and in the streets you walk you hide your face because they don't believe that it's true. They say it deoesn't happen that often but it's happening right now. I'm writing you this letter to let you know i'm not alright the streets are paved with hate and you cry yourself to sleep tonite because there aren't enough love songs in the sky. You counted down the days till you could say "Bye-bye, city bye-bye" you're walking down on Union you see the roads and know they're a part of you. They say it doesn't happen that often but it's happening right now. I'm writing you a second time to let you know nothing here has changed. Will you look back on this night as the day that ruined your life will you look back in these city streets nad say, "Oh, God, where are you..." In thses city streets i hide my face i turn away when you look at me and every night when i try and sleep i feel your hands all over my body, you stripped away all the street signs and shot out all the stop lights. If you smashed away the buildings what would you have left?