"If you listen closely, you'™ll hear the sound
Of ghostly feet walking on the old hunting grounds.
Then you'll hear voices, troubled and vexed,
With vague premonitions of what's coming next.
Look out at the city.
See what we've become.
Dirty Ben Franklin, see what you've done.
Look out at the river.
It's deader than death.
Dirty Ben Franklin look at what we've got left.
Stare at the horizon if you even can.
Dirty Ben Franklin, see how much you can stand.
Look out at the city.
See what it's become.
Dirty Ben Franklin see what you've done.
From the well-meaning assholes, the kids and the cops,
To the ballers, shot-callers, who skim off the top.
From the piss-rotted sidewalks, pounded by creeps,
To the Lenape trails that lie underneath.
Look out at the city.
See what we've become.
Dirty Ben Franklin, see what you've done.
You must be tempted to come up with a plan to blow it all up and start over again."