I hate the small square-footage, high-priced stores That seem to be everywhere in New York The $80 soy candles smell like shit $40 potpourri Like it was picked by gods and not some opportunist lady In her early 40's, named Sarah That convinces herself month after month That when it gets nice out, business will go up Trash in the streets but you still pay 1500 for a closet and a bed "As long as I got a roof over my head, I'm okay" You say to all your friends Living like a hamster 'til you die In a fuckin' city that doesn't care about you now