It really would be a perfect city
(Suffragette City)
No one is smoking grass
They're dead
They were millionaire art stars
Hooked on broken guitars, drugs
And cheap whores
I thought it was the end
I began to run
Anyone who doesn't mind
Their lungs filled with smoke
A very friendly and relaxed atmosphere
All kinds of tea were offered
They form a bright and loud yet friendly crowd
Home-like atmosphere
Quick, Internet connection
USB, CD/RW, latest magazines
We've got to move on
Could so deep
To the bone, through the web
To the bone