In a bar in downtown Dale an old man tells a tale.
He screams of a day of poets where
the streets are ours not theirs.
He screams piss on everything.

My leather jacket is zipped up and ready.
The boots on my feet, they keepmy steady.
I want to join the gang on sing.

BRIGHT LIGHTS, BIG CITY
(WE WANT THE STREETS)

Old men say, they say son
It's going to be hard to get older.
Give it time and you will see see.
Well noe that time has come and gone.

I may be young but I know nothing.
nothing really matters
except whats in your heart.
No good, no bad, no wrong, no right.

BRIGHT LIGHTS, BIG CITY
(WE WANT THE STREETS)

Meet us on the street
Underneath bright lights in the city.
There we'll find our hearts,
our souls, our dreams.

Meet us on the street