Eight miles high and when you touch down
Are somewhere just being their own.
You'll find that it's stranger than known
Signs in the street that say where you're going
Nowhere is there warmth to be found
Rain gray town known for its sound
In places small faces unbound
Among those afraid of losing their ground
Some laughing some just shapeless forms
Round the squares huddled in storms
Sidewalk scenes and black limousines Some living some standing alone.
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