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 . . . .