All my favorite places, my city had been pulled down.

I can develop my brooding potential.

Both of us searching for some perfect world we know we’ll never find.

Well, sometimes I love you on a Saturday night. Sunday morning, you don’t look right.

Tried to see your point of view, hope your dreams will all come true.

I gazed a gazely stare at all the millions here.

Oh, Superman, where are you now when everything’s gone wrong somehow?

Wake up, it’s nineteen-eighty-four.

You only meant well (well, of course you did.)

Bark at the moon.