Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
In a Texas town on the borderline Right off highway 79 There's a river bed up around a bend that knows no joy That knows no friend Two swollen bodies of baby ghosts Make their way down to the coast To see an ocean they've never seen To see the people they'll never be We gotta whole lotta money We got our New York City We gotta whole lotta nothing We got a hold on that Boy climbs up the Brooklyn Bridge Maybe he'll jump, maybe he'll live He says he's got a baby girl and she's on the way But she's too young to know about this day anyways And all the cameras are in the sky There to make sure this is televised Cause this is what makes ratings high This is channel 9 coming to you live We gotta whole lotta money We got our New York City We gotta whole lotta nothing We got a hold on that, yeah We got our Boston, San Francisco We got our New York City We got a whole lotta nothing We've got a hold on that, yeah And we harvest grain and we ship it off to a better place To a better cause And our politicians all shake hands They smile and say were doin' the best we can We gotta whole lotta money We got our New York City We gotta whole lotta nothing We got a hold on that, yeah We got our Boston, San Francisco We got our New York City We got a whole lotta nothing We've got a hold on that, yeah |