Looking out a dirty old window
Down below the cars in the city go rushing by
I sit here alone and I wonder why
Friday night and everyone’s moving
I can feel the heat but it’s moving
Heading down
I search for the beat in this dirty town
Downtown the young ones are going
Downtown the young ones are growing
We’re the kids in America
We’re the kids in America
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Bright lights, the music gets faster
Look boy, don’t check on your watch
Not another glance
I’m not leaving now, honey
Not a chance
Hot-shot, give me no problems
Much later baby you’ll be saying never mind
You know life is cruel
Life is never kind
Kind hearts don’t make a new story
Kind hearts don’t grab any glory