early tuesday wake up
put on your mournin' shoes
at the corner store a quarter
buys the daily news

read around the headlines
words are all the same
we all have our enemies
but they're the ones to blame

leavin' from the station
on a mornin' train
see the city skyline
it'll never be the same

they say the tallest chimney
falls in a summer storm
you say you wanted any port
but now you're on the run

you try to grasp the nettle
of an urban grapes of wrath
its baptism by fire
then jump in the blood bath

there's no quarter given
on a dark september day
six thousand americans
from cradle to early grave