Elliott Smith — Fear City

Dragged down into lowercase Trying to get your cops to talk right ‘Cause they can't put the paper to your face When you're just trying to walk by So now I got a new game, baby No one's gonna recognize it Your broken English over their flat, tired rhymes Still trying to bring some dead beauty back to life Isn't it pretty? Yeah I'm gonna see my city dead I can do everything that your man does except for better Got no interest now in addressing you kids With cheap angst love letters You write your name in all of the places no one goes Some can't be satisfied until everybody knows Isn't it pretty? Yeah I'm gonna see my city dead Isn't it pretty? Yeah I'm gonna see my city dead (come on) Isn't it pretty? Yeah I'm gonna see my city dead