She grinds her hips, maybe arches her back
There's nobody there to see what she's doing there
The guy's not there, he just doesn't exist
She's looking at empty space when she's doing this
She might walk home, she's kind of tired
Or spend some of the money on a cat she's hired
Below a bus runs by and splashes a man
He swears at a drunkard's curse on the whole damn world
She smiles at this and then starts to cry
She scrubs at a spot on her leg and then lets it dry
And she's sitting on the floor with her head hung down
Listening to another language on TV
Unaware, hair unbound
Wondering where her mother and father might be
If she calls, if she calls
She dreams, don't we all dream
A place, a way, a recurring theme
She remembers a time when love was alive
Somehow it gets lost in the sound of the city's morning drive
Lost in the sound of the city's roaring morning drive
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god
Oh my god