At seven PM the pitch writing is the urban art
I listen to old school metal on my way home
This time in town, the parties just started
But my bus driver just wants to meet his wife
Back from the campus, I take an hour by bus
I see the other students drinking and kissing
As this liquid love spreads through the sewage
Maybe they know the future that I’m studying
As the math that creates my music is computed
It merges with the sound that the city produces
Too much people are screaming of pain and love
Their voices are muted when an ambulance passes
In this environment, we don’t know who we are
But I can ensure that we know who we want to be
In this Cyber City, what connects us is a wire
Even if you want to be a wireless human being