On the long dusty ribbon of the long city street, The pageant of life is passing me on multitudinous feet, With a word here of the hills, and a song there of the sea And-the great movement changes-the pageant passes me.
They who have already enjoyed the crowds and noise of the great city, know their desire to return is little more than the restlessness of a vacant mind, that they are not so much led by hope as driven by disgust, and wish rather to leave the country than to see the town.
In the day we sweat it out on the streets on a runaway American dream.
I would rather be the only horse in a one-horse town than be the third horse in a big city.
Through this broad street, restless ever, ebbs and flows a human tide, wave on wave a living river; wealth and fashion side by side; Toiler, idler, slave and master, in the same quick current glide.
Slide slide slippity-slide When you're living in a city it's do or die
Even running to catch a train or a taxi, you can enjoy the high energy of the moment.
