Standard (EADGBE)
This is the last morning, that I wake up in this dirty city,
looking for the sunshine, as the buildings block the skies
This is the last morning, that I wash in rusty water,
trying to shave a face, that I don't even recognize
Down the hallway rats are skittering, I can smell the garbage rotting;
hear the children crying, in an apartment, down below
This is the last morning, that I'm gonna have to listen to it,
I'm going home, yeah
This is the last morning, that I try to breath the heavy air,
fight the crowds, avoid the traffic, watch the world turn grey
This is the last morning, that I drink my coffee standing up,
smile and speak to strangers, who just turn and walk away
This is a tough cold city here, and I'll guess I'll never cut it here
And I'm so tired of trying to stand against it, all alone
This is the last morning, that I'm gonna have to fight it,
I'm going home, yeah
This is the last morning that I wear these greasy overalls,
punch the clock, and do just what I'm told, to get along
And face the long evening, laying close beside my radio,
imagining the kisses, of the girl that sings the song
Down below the subway's screaming, as I lay here halfway dreaming
Looking at the ceiling, wondering where, the dream went wrong (where, where)
This is the last morning, that I'm gonna have to think about it,
I'm going home, yeah
I'm going home, I'm going home, I'm going home . . . .