As I walk down these lonely streets again

I learn that nothing is holy except the rest of the world

And the church where they gather to worship the undead

In a place that gives all hope but hope is not real

Always remember that and take for granted

Everything you can this is your only lonely life

In my own windy city I would take the hearts of all the pretty

People who have no soul just an empty hole

Where they bleed from their chest

Now all these tall buildings fall

They surround our country with security

If it takes four years to bring down our fears

Our government will give three cheers

This is my own windy city.