I love the view from my window,
And if you’ve known me awhile
You will have heard me say this.
The city lights come alive each night
And the clock’s wheel spins eternal,
Lights flashing beneath starless skies.
But the city makes for a lonesome home:
With all its people and the everlasting noise,
There is little connection here, ‘twixt mankind.
And from this city to the next I call home,
What will change? Language, address, view?
Will those make it worthy of the name?
The eternal transient: forever temporary.
It’s not about putting my life on the line;
This is the sacrifice I make for my people.