moving to the city,nwas so hard to say farewell nmy girlfriends took me drinking at the RSLnnand i was flushed with glory nfrom my (?) victorynand everybody tellin' me to tell my storyni went awaynthe very next daynwith a headachenthen lost it to the motorwaynnand i never, ever felt so freenand i go no place that i can bennthirty weeks of struggle in the city of sinnmy boyfriend finished school,nhe moved up and he moved innand his pulse comes tattooednwith the name of his crewnand a musical horn is like an 'i love you'nthings are so grimnthere's worse gas than him (?)nand we won't be together once we've settled innnand i got no place that i can benand i never, ever felt so freenni don't drink,nmy pulse will rocket fuel to whoever's next